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Kate’s Intuitive Abilities Are Still Active

There are many reasons I often say that Kate and I have been fortunate while “Living with Alzheimer’s.” Being able to play to her strengths, her intuitive abilities, accounts for much of that. Although I am familiar with many stories of other people with dementia whose intuitive abilities continue to provide pleasure even to the latest stages of the disease, I’ve always wondered how long Kate’s would last. I still don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know that they remain very active.

Her appreciation for music is as strong as ever, and the breadth of her musical tastes is much greater than before Alzheimer’s. I don’t mean to suggest that she has a critical eye for things. She doesn’t distinguish the quality of the musicians she hears. She just enjoys the music.

She also loves “things of beauty” although she often sees beauty in objects that the rest of us never notice. The one I have mentioned most often is her fascination with the paper doilies that she brings home from one of the restaurants we have visited so frequently in the past. She placed some of them on her dresser, a few on her bed table and several in different places in the family room. She continues to appreciate their beauty even as they get crumpled and soiled.

She also stops to take in other items around the house that intrigue her. This past Saturday, I cleaned out a drawer in my desk in the kitchen. One of the things I pulled out was a large envelope with “First Class Mail” printed in large bold letters on the front and back. This quickly grabbed her attention. She folded the envelope and spent 15-20 minutes running her fingers over the words. When she finished, she returned to the first word and repeated the procedure.

I noticed that she pressed her finger on each word and then lifted it. This is something she also does with the pictures in her photo books. She learned on the iPad that touching an icon would take her to something else. She finds it frustrating when nothing happens after touching photos or, in this case, the words “First Class Mail.”

She asked for my help. I explained that it was designed to mail something to another person. Then I said, “You could write a letter to our daughter, put it in the envelope, and mail it to her. Would you like to do that?” She did and I told her I would write the letter on my computer if she told me what she wanted to say. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t know what to say and wrote a short letter and read it back to her. She liked what I had written. Then I printed the letter and asked her to sign it “Mom.” I gave up having her sign cards, letters, and other documents a year or two ago but thought it would be nice for her to sign this one to Jesse.

I had difficulty explaining where she should sign. After printing the “M,” she needed instructions on both the “o” and “m.” She was unable to put them as close together as she should. In addition, she added several extra “o’s.” She wanted to send a letter to Jesse and wanted to sign it correctly. She just couldn’t do it. It was just the way a small child of three or four might have done. I was touched and hope that Jesse feels the same way when she receives it.

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The Demise of the iPad?

Over the past year or so, Kate had spent less and less time working jigsaw puzzles on her iPad. Prior to that, she spent 6-8 hours a day working puzzles. It was her only self-initiated activity. I started to record her weekly screen time in order to get a better idea of the changes in her usage. In November and December, she averaged 3-5 hours a week, far below her past usage. It continued that way until mid-January when it dropped to 2-3 hours a week.

Enter sheltering-in-place. April’s weekly figures are 1 hour 49 minutes, 1 hour 59 minutes, 1 hour 35 minutes, and this past week, 38 minutes. In terms of daily averages the figures (in minutes) are 16 , 17, 14 (includes a day that I worked  puzzles for at least 30 minutes one day demonstrating how it is done), and 5.4 for the week ending today.

The figures clearly indicate that her use of the iPad is almost a thing of the past. This change makes it more understandable why I spend more time with her now. She no longer has anything that she can do on her own. She does sometimes look at her photo books while the sitter is here but not for long.

It is also interesting that the most significant drop off occurred since we have been home bound. I might have expected an increase; however, even with the added time I spend with her, she has been less active since the changes Covid-19 has brought with it. The kind of things I do with her are more sedentary like looking at photo books. She tires quickly and wants to rest. I have gotten her out for very brief walks up and down the street, but those are a rarity. I think the decrease in stimulation has affected her ability to work her puzzles. When she works them, I spend a lot more time helping her than in the past. I don’t mean to suggest that sheltering is the only reason for the change. That had started long before any of us had heard of the Coronavirus. I just believe sheltering is another factor affecting her. It adds to my belief that the active lifestyle we maintained for so long paid dividends for us that we couldn’t fully appreciate until now.

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Going Home: A New Ritual?

Since Kate’s diagnosis, I’ve read many other caregivers’ accounts of their experiences “Living with Alzheimer’s.” At the most general level, I have learned at least two things. The most important to me is that there is much diversity in the circumstances of all caregivers and the loved ones for whom they care. That should be no surprise. After all, people without dementia are not all the same. Why should we find it different among those with dementia?

On the other hand, I have also found there are quite a few symptoms that are very common. One of those is the desire “to go home.” It is not only something that individual caregivers describe, but it spawns a variety of explanations for why it occurs among PWD. This is one of the ways in which Kate’s Alzheimer’s is quite like those others with her diagnosis.

I don’t recall exactly when this began, but it is something that is clearly more frequent now than in the past. This habit has led me to ask two questions. Why does she want to go home? and what should I do about it? Here are my answers.

Why does she want to go home? To me, this is an easy question. Her memory has declined so much that she no longer recognizes home. She doesn’t recognize any of the rooms in the house. She has to ask for my help each time she goes to the bathroom. Sometimes this doesn’t trouble her. That is especially true when she stops to admire things like the flowers inside and out as well as the shrubs and trees outside. The pleasure of that experience tends to divert her attention from being in a unfamiliar place.

The times when she is most likely bothered by not knowing where she is occurs when she wakes in the morning or from a nap. I believe her wanting to go home comes from a desire to be in a place she knows and is more comfortable. Since we have been sheltering in place she has also wanted to go home when we finish a meal. I think we’ve eaten out for so long that she thinks going home is the natural thing to do after eating.

So, how do I deal with it? When this first started happening, I did what I think most caregivers do. I reminded her that we were at home. As natural as that may be for a caregiver to believe appropriate, it doesn’t generally work for Kate. From what I have heard form other caregivers, it doesn’t work for them either. It had a momentary impact on Kate, but she would immediately forget and ask again.

That’s when I learned to tell her that I would be glad to take her home. This was before Covid-19. I would take her to Panera and get her something to eat and drink or just drink if it was close to a mealtime. This worked well until sheltering in place. Now I drive her around for 10-20 minutes and then return home. That has not failed yet. I say “yet” because she made me think she was onto me after dinner the other evening. About five minutes after leaving the house, she looked at me and said sternly, “Now, don’t try to trick me.” I said, “I won’t do that.” That is all that was said. We arrived home 15-20 minutes later, and she was happy. I don’t know what she was thinking about when she warned me not to trick her. I don’t really believe it was an awareness of what I was doing, but it sounded that way. Maybe I was just feeling guilty.

Anyway, I have found a way that through the time of this post has worked every time. That is not to say it will work in the future. If that happens, I’ll have to think of something else. I really hope I continue to be successful. It doesn’t require any elaborate plans and can be done rather quickly and effectively. What more could I want?

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A Sad Moment to End our Day

The past few days have made me more aware of something many other caregivers  talk about. People with dementia can change quickly from one moment to the next. I frequently find myself caught off guard by Kate’s behavior. Take last night for example.

After spending most of the time sleeping or resting from Thursday night until getting up for dinner yesterday, she was in bed about 7:15 and asleep shortly after that. I was surprised when two hours later I heard her say, “Help me. Help me, please.” I told her I would. She repeated her pleas for help several times before I could get in bed.

After joining her in bed, I asked how I could help her. Her most common response is to say, “I don’t know.” Instead, she said, “I don’t know anything. Help me.” I told her I could help her and said, “First, do you know who I am?” She said, “What’s your name?” I told her and she repeated it but mispronounced it a couple of times. I coached her, and she got it right. Then I asked if she knew her own name. She didn’t. I said, “Your name is Kate.” She said, “Now let me say it.” She couldn’t remember it. I repeated her name twice. She repeated it successfully. For the next 15-20 minutes we repeatedly went over her name and mine. As soon as we finished one repetition, she wanted to go through it again. I wish I could capture the tone of her voice and how intent she was about trying to remember her name and mine. That is what made it so sad. She wanted to do something she simply could not do. The extent to which she was bothered is another example of her awareness that something is wrong with her. She was only successful a couple of times, and then it immediately followed my repeating the name. It was a powerful example of just how poor her short-term memory is, that is, virtually non-existent.

The only good news coming out of the experience is that she began to tire and wanted to go to sleep, and she as been all right today.

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Follow-up on Kate’s Sleeping

When I posted my previous update concerning Kate’s sleeping, it was 9:30. She was still asleep. I didn’t make any effort to get her up before 11:00. She was awake and pleased to see me. Her response was strange in that she started to cry. I asked if she could tell me why. She couldn’t, but she was able to tell me she was happy. That made me wonder if she had been awake for a while and didn’t know where I was or what to do.

She wasn’t eager to get up, but she did so willingly. She was very unsteady on her feet and very confused. We got a takeout lunch that we brought back to the house. Her confusion continued while we were eating. She couldn’t identify her hamburger patty, the bun, or the fries. She ate a good bit of the bun, but I think she would have left the patty if I hadn’t put pieces on her fork and fed them to her. The surprise to me (a pleasant one) was that she ate hardly any fries.

When we finished, we spent about thirty minutes looking at one of her family photo books. Then I turned on Phantom of the Opera on YouTube. I was doubtful that she would be interested since it wasn’t just a concert of the music but the full stage production. I was right. I turned it off after fifteen minutes.

She was tired and rested on the sofa for an hour before sitting up. She was confused and said, “Where am I?” I told her she was at home. She said she wanted to “get outa here.” I told her I would take her but wanted to show her a couple of things first. I took her into the hallway to see her pictures of her Grandmother, mother, and her father. She didn’t express her usual interest. She kept saying she wanted to go.

I took her by the hand and walked toward the garage where I intended take a short drive in the car and return home. Before getting to the garage, she changed her mind and wanted to stay. We went back to the family room. She said she was hungry. I got her some blueberries and cheese for a snack. She ate them and has been resting for about forty-five minutes. It is 5:15. We have plenty of lasagna left over from last night. I think I’ll serve that instead of bringing something in. We’ll both enjoy it.

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More on Kate and Sleep/Rest

Three months ago Kate wouldn’t get up on a day when the sitter was coming. She was still in bed when I left and also when I arrived home. It was about 4:15 when she finally got up.  There have been at least two other times she has slept until late in the afternoon, once until after 5:00. There have been several other days when she has not wanted to get up but ultimately agreed to do so.

When I tried to get her up yesterday, she was resistant. Pushing her never works, so I decided to let her rest a little more. After several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to encourage her. I told her I wanted to have lunch with her and hoped she would get up. That didn’t work at first, but, with a little coaxing, it did.

It was running close to the time for the sitter’s arrival. I put in an online delivery order from Panera. Kate was quiet but enjoyed her lunch. We were still eating when Mary arrived. When we finished, I took Kate in the family room and showed her several of her photo books she might enjoy. Then I prepared for a conference call.

While I was on the call, Kate went to sleep on the sofa and was still resting when Mary left. I went to the sofa and sat beside her. She continued to rest. I told her it was pizza night and asked if she would like to go with me to pick it up. I didn’t get a response. I decided to let her rest a few more minutes.

In fifteen minutes, I tried again without success. She responded the same way she has done when sleeping in the bed in the morning. She was good-natured and said, “I’ll get up in a few minutes.” The problem is that she never does.

I decided to cook lasagna. No, I didn’t make it. I bought it earlier in the week at a takeout place that has usually has two or three frozen dishes they prepare for times like these. Before eating, I asked if she would like to join me. She didn’t, so I went ahead. I fixed a salad (spinach and arugula with blueberries, tomatoes, and slivered almonds) to go with the lasagna. It was an unusually good meal.

After eating, I told Kate is was time to get ready for bed. She didn’t want to move and asked if she could sleep right there on the sofa. I told her that she needed to get to the bathroom and put on her night clothes and then it would be easier to get in bed. I was surprised when she agreed. She was in bed shortly after 7:30 and quickly went to sleep. She was asleep when I got in bed and slept through the night. I expected her to get up early this morning, but she didn’t make a sound when I got up. She is still sleeping at 9:15.

So, what’s going on? As so often happens, I don’t know. I know that it was a year ago that her sleep pattern began to change. Over that time, it has been less predictable than it was before that time. She has clearly been more tired than she used to be. During the past three months that has increased, especially in the past 3-4 weeks. She is not on her feet much before she wants to rest. That often occurs when I give her a tour of the house. She enjoys herself but gets worn out and wants to sit down. As I have speculated before, this may be a natural process as her body begins to shut down. Her doctor seems to think that might be it. Whatever it is, I suspect the fact that she has resisted any exercise must have exacerbated the problem. The good news is that she has not seemed disturbed or frightened. I am eager to see what happens today.

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Living in Kate’s World of Delusions

Kate has experienced delusions for several years, but they occur more frequently now, especially since we have been homebound. Prior to my experience with Kate, I was prone to think delusions were all bad. I am discovering that is not so. Most of Kate’s are benign. They are harmless, some puzzling, but most quite interesting and reflective of her personal values. A few have been disturbing. These have involved a belief that no one likes her, that she has done something she believes was wrong, or that she has some obligation for which she is not prepared. The most frequent delusions involve projects designed to help those who are underprivileged in some way. Often, they involve programs to educate women in third-world countries but also in the United States.

During the past 36 hours, she has had two separate but related delusions that led to unusual conversations. They were very one-sided with Kate playing the dominant role. In fact, soliloquy might be a better word than conversation. The first occurred Wednesday night when I got out of the shower. She began a conversation that lasted almost a full hour and a half during which I said very little. I played the role of facilitator by simply listening, expressing agreement, or asking questions that would lead her to say more.

The second conversation occurred yesterday morning at breakfast. Yes, I said, “Breakfast.” It was another time she had gotten up early before I had fixed my own breakfast. I took the opportunity for us to eat together, never expecting another lengthy conversation. This one was an hour.

Both of them were interesting and involved a school. In each case, she did not know my name and had not recognized me as her husband. That was true all day Wednesday and a large portion of the day yesterday. It was clear Wednesday night that she was talking to me as though I were a potential candidate to join their program. Unlike other similar delusions, she didn’t say much, if anything, about the students. Her focus was entirely on the underlying values of school for those who worked (volunteered?) there. It was a diverse workplace where everyone respected the talents and personalities of the others.

Like another conversation we had several weeks ago, she responded to me just the way she would have if she had known my name and our relationship. Like the previous one, she repeatedly referred  to her husband and used my name each time. She kept saying, “I wish Richard were here. He could give you a better idea (tell you more, etc.).” While she didn’t say much about the students, it was another example of a program designed to provide education to people who might not otherwise have gotten it.

The length and complexity of her conversation was a striking contrast with most of her delusions. She talked non-stop, though in a relaxed style, for a full hour and a half that night. Several times I suggested that we continue the conversation the next morning. She agreed the last time when I mentioned wanting to think about it and talk in the morning.

I never imagined that she would start a similar conversation the next morning, but that’s what happened as we sat down for breakfast. I was never sure that it was an extension of the previous night’s conversation, but it was strangely similar in length and complexity. She also periodically mentioned her husband (me) by name. This time it wasn’t clear if I was a candidate for a position. It sounded more like I was someone who had expressed an interest in what she was doing.

Conversations like these are rooted in delusions brought about by Alzheimer’s; however, they also involve powerful expressions of Kate’s feelings and values. I find that comforting. It reminds me that the real Kate is still here.

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Awareness of Vocabulary Loss

On many occasions I have mentioned Kate’s awareness that something is wrong with her. That is most evident when she is disturbed over not being able to recognize her surroundings or know who she is. I have also mentioned that her vocabulary is shrinking. Many everyday words are rapidly disappearing.

Until this past Monday, I hadn’t noticed any sign that she recognizes the latter change. We were in the bathroom brushing her teeth when I used a word that she didn’t understand. I don’t recall what it was, but it was something ordinary. I didn’t think much about until she said, “I like the way you talk.” I told her I thought I talked the way she does. She told me that I know more words than she does. She said it matter of factly without any sadness or great concern. I feel good about that, but it was a reminder of how much self-awareness she retains. She has far more insight about herself and others than I give her credit for. That awareness may well account for those moments when she seems depressed but can’t explain what’s wrong.

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Kate is Like a Child.

I suppose everyone has experienced and been delighted by the innocence of children. As a youth and during most of my adult life, I didn’t give much attention to children except for our own and those of family and friends. As I aged, I developed a greater appreciation of the gifts they bring us. They haven’t developed the sensitivity adults have about “proper” behavior. They behave and speak as if it only matters to them and no one else. They express what they feel so naturally.

Kate has always been interested in children. The nineteen years she served as our church’s volunteer librarian were especially fulfilling for her. Much of her work involved children either directly or indirectly. She would have kept her responsibilities as librarian had it not been for her Alzheimer’s. She realized before her diagnosis that she was no longer able to fulfill her position the way she thought she should and resigned.

During the past nine years, her interest in children has become a fascination for her. She enjoys watching them wherever we go and often speaks to them and compliments the parents for having such beautiful children. That has further increased my own appreciation of them.

That leads me to think about Kate. For the past three or four years, she has been somewhat more childlike herself. Increasingly, she behaves with me much like a child with her parent. That is expressed in several different ways.

The most typical example is her wanting to show me little things she has done. She seems proud of herself for what she is doing and wants my recognition. She likes me to watch as she pulls strands of her hair and runs her fingers between each of her toes to get “them” out. She asks me to look at her as she picks her teeth with her fingernails thinking there is something is stuck between them. She is sensitive about her skin and daily runs her fingers across the skin of her arms and legs and shows me her hand and says, “See them.” I try to pay attention and reinforce her belief that she is doing something good.

Above all, her most childlike qualities involve her expressions of enthusiasm for things she enjoys. Her pleasure over the beauty of flowers, trees, shrubs and house plants is the best example. The arrival of spring has brought daily moments of pleasure. She loves to share her enthusiasm with me and sometimes says, “Look at the pink (green, yellow.) “Do you see it?” I translate her question as “Won’t you share this beautifuI moment with me.” I never tire of seeing how excited she is almost every time she walks in our family room. That is particularly true when she sees the two small pots of African Violets. She also takes time to admire the four Poinsettias that have survived the winter. Occasionally, she sees the hydrangeas at the far end of the room and walks over to get a closer look. If she turns around after admiring them, she sometimes is surprised to see the Poinsettias again. I don’t ever recall seeing any sign that she is aware of having previously seen them or any of the other plants prior to that moment.

The newest source of pleasure involves her food. This has only occurred since being homebound. It seems surprising because the meals I prepare are very simple and most of our takeout meals aren’t the same caliber of those we have eaten at the restaurants. She rarely leaves anything on her plate. The exception would be the skin of apples and tomatoes as well as the crust of her bread.

She always wants to share her pleasure with me. It never dawns on her that her entrée and mine are almost always the same. Even when I tell her, she often says, “Try it. You’ll like it.” and passes her fork with a sample for me to taste.

It’s not just that she likes the food. She is animated and talks about it during a large portion of our meal. She liked her meals when we were eating out, but it was usually a special dessert that she talked about most. I never thought she was at all inhibited in a restaurant, but, perhaps, she feels even freer to talk when it is just the two of us at home.

Another possibility is that it is simply a side effect of her Alzheimer’s. She has forgotten most of the foods we eat. For a while, that was limited to a few things like pizza and pepperoni. Dr. Pepper has always been her favorite drink, and she wouldn’t drink the diet version. Now I only buy diet. It doesn’t make any difference even when she is looking at the bottle from which it was poured. She has also almost forgotten the name Dr. Pepper except to recognize it when I offer it to her. She raves about how good it is with almost every sip and then asks, “What is this?” We go through this multiple times during a meal. I suspect that is happening with all the other items on the table. As far as she knows, what she eats and drinks is always new and always good.

Some of you may be thinking, “How sad that she no longer recognizes the names of her favorite things.” You would be right. It is sad. It can be especially painful for me as her husband. How I wish I could spare her from these things as well as those that are to follow. My only way of adapting is to recognize that it is totally out of my control. All I can do is try to keep her safe and happy. I pour all of my energy into that. I’ve learned to live in her world and to be joyful that she can still enjoy life. I am also aided by the fact that she is so dependent on me. She is like a young child, she can do very little on her own. She needs help with everything, and I am willing and able to give it.

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Does Kate Still “Know” Me?

It’s been almost two years since Kate first asked my name. I mentioned it to a friend in Rotary who has been very active in our club’s support of a project to raise funds for Alzheimer’s research (CART, Coins for Alzheimer’s Research and Treatment). A week later he made an announcement encouraging club members to contribute and mentioned what I had said. He conveyed how devastating that must have been for me.

While I would not have used that word, it was a moment that took me aback even though I knew that it would come eventually. I also knew that this was just forgetting my name in one moment and that at other times she would recall. I took it as a sign that the day might be coming when she would completely forget who I am and wondered how long that would be. At this point, I still don’t know. That’s good news because it means she continues to remember off and on both my name and that I am her husband. In fact, in the past few months, she has called me by name more than she did a year ago.

There is even more good news. Although it is common for her not to remember my name and relationship, she almost always recognizes me as someone who is familiar and with whom she feels comfortable. She trusts me. Two incidents occurred yesterday that are good illustrations.

At 8:30 yesterday morning, twelve minutes into my walk, Kate sat up in bed. I went to her. She was ready to get up. Although she expressed her general unfamiliarity with the location of the bathroom and what to do when there, she did not appear to be disturbed at all. I took her hand and walked her to the bathroom.

For months, she has asked what to do when I show her the toilet. Recently, I started telling her to pull her underwear down and sit on the toilet, and everything would come naturally. Once seated she understands I was right and sometimes, as she did yesterday, seems amazed that “the water just comes out.”

After using the toilet, she asked, “What next?” I told her it would be a good time for a shower. She didn’t hesitate and just asked where and what to do. I turned on the shower and led her inside. She was very comfortable with me and preferred that I take the lead in bathing. The was the first time she just stood there and turned around when I asked so that I could reach all around her.

As we walked out of the shower, I said something I don’t often say, “Do you know who I am?” She said, “No, who are you?” I gave her my name, and we continued to the bedroom where I helped her dress. Then she lay down to rest. I believe that during the time from getting up until that moment she didn’t know my name or our relationship, but she obviously trusted me. Of course, that could have been because I was the only one available. I believe, however, that her comfort level expressed the nature of our relationship and that she would not have responded the same way with a stranger.

The second illustration occurred late yesterday afternoon and early evening. Following her afternoon rest, she sat up and said she was ready to eat. I told her it was a little early for dinner and suggested she have a snack to tide her over until then. We went into the kitchen where I gave her a banana. She didn’t remember what a banana is but was delighted when she took the first bite.

It was clear that she also didn’t remember we were in our house, so I decided to give her a tour of the dining and living rooms. We must have spent ten minutes in the dining room. I am embellishing my commentary even more now. I pointed to the chandelier (never remembers what a chandelier is) and explained that was from her parents’ home. I said, “Can you picture your mother and daddy looking at different fixtures and finally deciding this was the one they believed was best for their new home then under construction. Her mother was quite a cook and loved to entertain. I reminded Kate of all the celebratory occasions and specific family members that would have eaten under the light of that chandelier. She loved the tour, but all the family items I showed her never made her recognize she was in her own home.

When we entered the living room, she was tired of standing and asked if she could sit down. We sat on the sofa that had been in her parents’ living room. I reminded her of the times we had sat on that sofa and sneaked a kiss or two after her mother and daddy had gone to bed. I didn’t yesterday but sometimes I also remind her of the doorbell that her parents had installed for her grandmother who stayed with them in the winter. Her mother rang the doorbell as a signal when it was time for me to leave.

Kate was tired and asked if she could rest on the sofa. I told her that would be fine and that I would get my laptop and sit with her. She rested about forty-five minutes before asking when we were going to eat. I told her we could order takeout from Chalupas right then.

As she got up, she asked me where I live. I said, “Right here with you. This is our house.” She looked at me skeptically. I didn’t say anything more. Her conversation in the car going to and returning from the restaurant made it very clear that she didn’t know my name or our relationship. I responded to one of her comments by saying, “I hope you feel you can trust me.” She said, “I do. You’re a nice guy.” I said, “I’m glad to hear that because I like being with you.” She said, “I like being with you.”

We ate our meal and then went to the bedroom where she started to work on puzzles but became frustrated with the first one. I gave her a couple of photo books to look at while I watched some of the evening news. She wasn’t interested. I asked if she would like to get ready for bed. She was. She was very cooperative in taking her medicine and putting on her night clothes. She went to sleep but woke at least for a minute or two when I got in bed an hour and a half later. She responded to me warmly just as though she knew I was her husband. Did she? I don’t know. I do know that she tapped me on the arm early this morning. I looked at my watch. It was 4:44. She said, “I love you.” I said, “I love you too.”

Does it really matter whether she knows my name or that I am her husband? She knows “me.”