When I began this journal (now a blog), I wanted to create an account of our lives since Kate’s diagnosis. That is the reason for my providing so much information about our daily activities. In a way, I wanted my posts to paint an accurate picture of the struggles we have faced and how we have adapted. Looking back, I think I was expecting more problems to deal with and fewer moments of happiness. As it has turned out, it is the “Happy Moments” rather than struggles that have filled our lives.
I often worry that whatever I say will lead some to believe that our lives are either “good” or “bad.” The reality is that our lives are a complicated mixture of both. Even now, the good far outweighs the bad. I do understand, however, that the way I have adapted to Kate’s changes permits me to see it that way. If I were looking at our lives today through the lens of 2011, I would be depressed. I am not depressed today. I have learned to appreciate many little things that I previously would have thought either insignificant or sad.
Let me give you a few examples of happy moments we have shared in the past few days. As we walked out of the bedroom the other day, she noticed a picture of our daughter, Jesse, in her wedding dress. It sits on the dresser, and Kate frequently stops to look at it. During the past two or three years, I don’t ever recall her recognizing that it is Jesse, but that doesn’t stop her from appreciating it. When I told her it was her daughter, she was moved to tears. She commented on the smile and her eyes, something that draws her attention in all photos. She asked her name. After I told her, she wanted to know more.
We spent at least five minutes or more looking at the picture. Then I told her we had a picture of Jesse’s twin boys in the family room and motioned her to follow me. This is another of her favorite pictures. She was thrilled to see it. She wanted to know their names. She got the impression they were her children. I told her they were Jesse’s boys. Then she wanted to know about their father. It wasn’t long before I was giving her far more information than she could digest. We went away without her ever having the understanding she wanted, but she had enjoyed herself. And I loved showing her the pictures. We do this regularly now. It’s not something we did much before, but it means much more to her now. I get a special kick out of her interpretation of the personal qualities of Jesse and the boys.
As we walked through the family room, she was captivated by the beauty of the flowering plants on the patio and the trees behind our property. She said hello to the ceramic cat that sits on the floor before we enter the kitchen. She looked at the photos of our son and her father that are also part of her daily ritual. This is always a good way to start the day.
During dinner, she said she wanted to tell me something. She said, “I know how much you do for me, and I want to thank you.” This began a series of comments that continued when we got in the car after dinner. She conveyed that she couldn’t live without me. She said some nice things about me to our server. As we left the restaurant, she said, “I wanted to tell you something else. I don’t know where all this is going. I wonder if we should get married.” I said, “I would love to marry you.” She said, “You would? That makes me happy.” I walked around my side of the car. We didn’t say anything more about marriage, but we talked about our relationship all the way home.
These are just a few of the many experiences we have on a daily basis. I would been sad if they had occurred eight years ago, but I have always wanted her to be happy. That is especially true now, and she is almost always happy. What I didn’t know then that I know now is that happiness is possible even after memory disappears, and I don’t have to look far to find things that make her happy.
I wish Kate had all of her rational abilities back – her memory for people, places, events and how to accomplish the many daily tasks of living. That’s not going to happen. From that standpoint, life is not going well for us now. On the other hand, being happy is of primary importance for both of us, so Kate and I would say that our glasses are still quite full.