| A real-time account of Dementia Caregiving

January 6, 2019

Sleep

There are a number of recurring themes that appear in my posts. One of those is Kate’s sleep. For most of the years since her diagnosis, I didn’t feel it necessary to comment on sleep. Looking back, I believe that was a result of Trazadone’s doing just what it was prescribed to do. Prior to that Kate had often awakened in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. Her own prescription for that was listening to books on her iPod. She did that for several years, some of which preceded her diagnosis. After her doctor introduced Trazadone, she slept through the night without a problem. That put us on a regular schedule though sometimes she went to bed earlier than she had before. I now realize that probably related to what time she took her evening meds.

It wasn’t until this past spring that I noticed a change in her sleep. Her pattern was more erratic. She started sleeping later than before, but she sometimes got up earlier. We took her off Trazadone thinking that it might be the cause of the change. It did make some difference, especially at first. She began to go to bed a little later and closer to the time I went to bed. Over the ensuing months, she has gotten into a pattern of sleeping later. She is also much slower to get ready once she is awake. That is especially true when I wake her.

That is background for what I have observed in the past few days. Two days ago while the sitter was here, she didn’t get up until 3:15. I was concerned that she might not be able to get to sleep that night. I needn’t have worried. She went to sleep at her regular time and slept through the night. Not only that, she only got up when she did because I got her up. That was around 11:00. I thought she must have had plenty of sleep during the previous 24-36 hours.

As often happens, I was wrong. When we returned home from lunch, she wanted to know what she could do. I suggested that we sit in the family room and go through one of the photo albums of her father’s family. She liked the idea and enjoyed looking at the photos on the first few pages. Then she said she was sleepy and asked if we could look at it later. I told her that would be fine. She lay down on the sofa and rested for a full two hours before I got her up. It was almost 5:00. I told her it wouldn’t be long before going to dinner. She said she would like to go right then. First, she wanted to go the bathroom and brush her teeth. It was almost thirty minutes later that we left.

Once again, I thought she might have trouble going to sleep last night. Again, I was wrong. She had no problem at all. I guess the next question is “Will she sleep late again this morning?” I’m not making any predictions. I’ll just wait and see. One thing seems to be sure. Even though she surprises me by getting up early some mornings, she needs more sleep now than she used to. What this means as we go forward is unclear. I know from other caregivers that their spouses often slept more than Kate. I am beginning to accept that Kate is on her way to spending more of her time in bed. As always, time will tell.

January 6, 2019June 11, 2025

Welcome to Living With Alzheimer’s

January 1, 2025

This site consists of a journal I started on January 21, 2011. That was the date on which my wife, Kate, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. It is an account of our lives since that time and includes the symptoms Kate has displayed as well as how we have adapted. You will also learn about our frustrations and problems.

What may surprise you is how much we have been able to enjoy life and each other even as we experience the toughest challenges of this disease. In that respect, we have been more fortunate than most couples who travel this road. Kate has declined significantly in recent years and has been in the last stage of Alzheimer’s more than three years. We both tested positive for COVID two weeks before Thanksgiving in 2020, and Kate spent eight days in the hospital. She recovered quickly from the physical effects of the virus but it took several months to recover from the trauma of being taken to the hospital by ambulance and the hospital experience itself.

In early February 2022, she had a stroke. That has also had an impact on her. She was an early stage of aphasia, and the stroke made that worse. She doesn’t talk much, and when she does, it is almost impossible to understand what she is saying. Every day, however, she says a few words or sentences that we can understand clearly. The stroke also affected her right leg, She is unable to straighten it.

Although our lives have changed significantly, we continue to enjoy life and each other. We can’t be as active as had been, but we still get out as much as we are able. We live in a continuing care retirement care community. Every day we go out for ice cream at 3:30 and go from there to dinner at 4:30. That gives us enough time to have a leisurely dinner and get her to bed around 6:30.

I don’t know what lies ahead, but we began our journey with the intent to enjoy life and each other for as long as we could. That seems to have worked in the past, and I am hopeful that it will serve us well in the future.

Thank you for your visit.

Richard Creighton @LivingWthAlz

January 5, 2019

Another Example of Kate’s Intuitive Abilities

I’ve written two posts in the last few days that deal with Kate’s intuitive abilities. This is another one. Last night she had an emotional experience that illustrates how powerful those abilities can be. This was far from the first such experience, but it was especially intense and lasted over a twenty to thirty-minute period of time.

It occurred after we returned home from dinner. About two weeks ago, she and one of her sitters had watched the first half of Les Miserables. It had been a while since the two of us had watched it, so I turned on the second half. As on other occasions, she quickly became engrossed. Periodically, I noticed that she was whimpering a bit as she watched. She was also making audible expressions of her pleasure.

Close to the last third of the performance, I brought her meds to her. Then I started to refill the pill holder in the bathroom. I was just about finished when she called my name. It was obvious that she was moved by what she was watching. When I responded, she asked if I could come to her. I went over to her and got down on one knee beside her chair. I asked what I could do for her. She said she just wanted me to be with her. Then she took my hand. I said, “It’s beautiful. Isn’t it?” She said, “Beautiful and sad.” She talked off and on for the remaining portion of the performance.

She thought it was so sad that we have wars. She explained that she believed there are times when war becomes necessary but it is so horrible that so many people have to suffer. She has always been moved by WWII and specifically the Holocaust. She said she couldn’t understand why so many Jews had been killed during the war. She repeated her thoughts for at least the next twenty minutes.

As I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, I felt this was a time for comfort as opposed to words. I listened and held her hand and supported her feelings. That continued until the end of the musical. We went to bed shortly afterward.

This experience makes me think about many of the movies we have enjoyed over the past several years. I don’t believe she has been able to follow a plot or understand much of what is going on for at least four or five years; however, that hasn’t prevented her from enjoying movies. For a long time, I wondered how that can be. Then I began to understand that the characters and situations must have communicated some emotional message that she liked. That was illustrated most vividly in several of the movies she has enjoyed during the past year. One was Darkest Hour. In that case, she did understand that it dealt with Churchill and WWII. She was able to connect with the seriousness of the events portrayed as well as the drama conveyed by the acting, visuals, and sound. The other two were documentaries, RBG and Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Even without following the story, she was able to get a feeling for both Justice Ginsberg and Mr. Rogers. She easily understood that the films conveyed positive impressions of each one and liked them.

One of the things I have learned since Kate’s diagnosis is that most people think of the last stages when they hear of someone with Alzheimer’s. They don’t imagine that stage is just the tip of the iceberg. We’ll be there sooner than I would like. In the meantime, I will continue to celebrate the fact that there are so many things that she can enjoy. Her intuitive abilities are still working even as her rational ones disappear.

January 5, 2019

A Short Day for Kate

Yesterday Kate was tired and didn’t want to get up. At 10:30, I asked her if she would like me to take her to lunch or let her sleep longer. She opted for sleep. I decided it would be a good chance to let her get accustomed to Mary’s helping her. I kept poking my head in the bedroom thinking that she might wake up before I left. She didn’t. I did bring Mary into the bedroom and told Kate she was here if she needed anything.

After leaving, I began to wonder how long Kate would sleep, but I didn’t call Mary to check. I decided it was best to leave things up to the two of them. I got home a few minutes before 5:00 and found that they weren’t at home. I knew that meant they were at Panera. My immediate thought was that she had gotten up very late and was eating a late lunch. They were back home a few minutes later. I discovered that I was right. Mary said she had tried to get Kate up a couple of times but didn’t want to force her. She finally got her up at 3:15. It took almost an hour for her to get ready. They got to Panera at 4:15.

I hadn’t eaten a regular lunch. I ate a banana and snacked on some granola before leaving for the Y. I was ready for dinner when I got home. Kate is sometimes ready to eat shortly after eating a meal. I decided it probably wouldn’t bother her if we went directly to get our Friday night pizza. I was right about that. On the way to the restaurant, I asked her about going to Panera with Mary. She told me they had just stayed at home. She ate her half of the pizza just as easily as she usually does.

The next question I had was “Will I have trouble getting her to sleep?” That turned out not to be a problem at all. We got in bed about our usual time, 9:45. I went right to sleep and was unaware that she had any problem. She slept through the night and is still sleeping at I write this blog at 8:50. Will she get up earlier this morning? I don’t know. I have an idea that she may not have slept as much yesterday as it appeared. She was in bed, but lately she has been staying in bed longer after waking up. It makes me wonder if she wakes up but doesn’t know what to do. This is something I will pay more attention to in the days ahead. She may actually need me to get her up.

January 4, 2019

Reflecting on Kate’s Intuitive Abilities. Part 2: Taste and Touch

By now you are well aware that Kate and I eat out for all our meals except breakfast. Thus, it should not surprise you that the sense of taste has played a relevant part in our lives. I can’t say, however, that it has brought with it the same degree of pleasure as music and our social experiences. Let me try to explain.

Kate and I are not “Foodies.” By that, I mean that we do not passionately explore a diverse variety of foods and ways in which they can be prepared. When we are traveling and when we dine out for special occasions, we may explore unique and tasty menu items. Since we eat out all the time, we don’t go to a lot of upscale restaurants. Most of them are everyday places.

That does not mean that the taste of food is irrelevant to us. On the contrary, we have found ourselves gravitating to food that we enjoy the most. For several years, I have ordered Kate’s meals for us. I do that based on the things that I know she likes, not necessarily what I think is best from a dietary standpoint. In other words, her taste in food and beverages does matter.

She has always liked Dr. Pepper (DP). It is not available at all the restaurants we frequent. When it is, that is what I have usually gotten for her. Her sense of taste, however, is something that has been changing. She no longer distinguishes the taste of different beverages as clearly as she used to. When she gets a DP, she frequently tells me “Something’s wrong with this.” Within the past year, I noticed that she was selecting a little of each of the beverages in the vending machine at Panera. She was no longer going straight to DP. The fact that she has gained weight has led me to order more iced tea half sweet and half unsweet. She has been happy with that. I still keep DP at home in the small cans but notice that she often doesn’t finish what she pours.

Apart from that, I choose specific food items that she likes. When we are eating a full meal, I often order salmon or scallops for her. She likes both. She also likes sweet potato fries. I order those when they are on the menu. In the sandwich line, she likes mostly turkey. One of the other changes in her taste has involved bacon. She doesn’t like the crispiness of bacon. I now ask that bacon be omitted from any sandwich that has them. Similarly, she doesn’t usually eat lettuce, so I omit that as well. I never get her a salad. The idea of a salad turns her off. That’s ironic because she used to make great salads.

Through experimentation we have settled into a array of items she likes at every restaurant we visit. She especially likes her Italian and Mexican meals, and she loves to add lots of Parmesan cheese to her pasta.

Both of us have always loved desserts. When we first married, we had dessert with every evening meal. Over the years, desserts became more of a treat for special occasions. Now we eat more desserts, about five times a week. That specifically relates to Kate’s desire for them. Don’t get me wrong. I love them just as much as she does; however, I am more prone to monitor what I eat than she is. My first reaction was to discourage eating more desserts. I had a second thought. Dessert is something we both enjoy, and I don’t want to look back and regret that I hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity share that pleasure.

Speaking of desserts makes me think of the blueberry muffin she gets at Panera. That is something she has really enjoyed; however, now that she sleeps later in the morning, we don’t get there as often. When we do, it is in the afternoon. Then we usually just get something to drink.

Kate doesn’t demand a great deal with respect to her meals. She is getting what she wants. When you couple that with the other benefits of eating out, she is getting along well.

When I began to think of the role of touch in our lives, I initially thought of it as less important than the other senses. After thinking a little more, I’d have to say that it has played a significant complementary role in our overall relationship. Often that comes with routine expressions of affection. I believe we hug more than we did before Alzheimer’s. I know there are times when words don’t seem to be the right answer to a problem. When Kate has had a panic or anxiety attack, I have responded with a warm hug when I wasn’t sure what to say. There are times when we are in the car, usually on the way out of town, that she may reach across and simply touch my arm, hand, or leg. More often that that, she wakes up in the middle of the night, moves closer to me, and puts a hand on my arm. It’s just another way of saying “I love you,” but it’s an important one.

That leaves only the sense of smell. I’m not sure what to say about that except that it is something that I don’t see as having played a significant role in how well we get along with Alzheimer’s. Perhaps this is something I should pay more attention to in the future. Each of other senses, however, has been very important to us, and I expect them to last a good bit longer.

January 3, 2019

Addendum for Previous Post

In my previous post I neglected to mention something else that illustrates Kate’s appreciation of things she sees as beautiful. At dinner last night our server brought out a dish with a small cup of Parmesan cheese and another of hot peppers. Underneath them was a paper doily that looked like something my grandmother used to crochet with an outer band of lace. On at least two other occasions, Kate has brought them home. Last night she did so again. She held it in her hand very carefully, trying not to damage it in anyway. Before getting out of the car, she asked me to take it. She said that I was likely to be more careful with it than she. I thought this was interesting in two ways. First, it expressed how much she liked something so simple. Second, she sensed a difference in the way each of us handles our things. She didn’t want it messed up. She trusted my OCD tendencies to protect it.

It also reminds me of how kind she can be in her evaluations. There are many simple things that she appreciates that she might not have before her Alzheimer’s. She is very generous in her own critiques of theatrical and musical performances. She is the same with her attribution of skills of the people she meets. I notice this a lot when I do something simple and very ordinary. She will say something like “You’re so smart.” She does the same thing with many of the people we encounter daily. I think this is a natural outgrowth of her own loss of rational abilities. She still retains an appreciation of such skills and is impressed with the people who still have them.

Seeing beauty in things we take for granted and special skills that we would also overlook gives her more things in life to enjoy than the average person. That’s something else that the longevity of intuitive skills provides to make life enjoyable. How grateful I am for that. That has made living with Alzheimer’s easier for both of us.

January 3, 2019

Reflecting on Kate’s Intuitive Abilities

As Kate’s rational abilities (remembering names, places, processes, relationships, etc.) continue to fade away, I find myself focusing even more on her intuitive abilities. These are the ones that involve our five senses, sight, suond, taste, smell, and touch. As Judy Cornish stresses in The Dementia Handbook, it is the rational abilities that decline so rapidly with dementia. People with dementia (PWD) continue to experience the world through their senses and from them derive associated feelings. They also hold on to feelings associated with people, places, and things even after the names are forgotten. I have often mentioned how important music has been to Kate and me, but I don’t believe I have given sufficient attention to her other sensory experiences. In addition to sound, sight has been especially important. I would like to relate a few experiences that occurred yesterday that illustrate what I mean.

It began first thing yesterday morning. Well, not “first thing.” It was actually 10:45 when I walked into the bedroom and noticed that Kate was awake. As I walked over to the bed, she smiled at me and gave me a little wave with her hand. From past experience I know that it is unlikely that she remembered my name. It is quite possible she didn’t remember that I am her husband; however, she did recognize me as someone she knows and likes. She responded very much the way she would have if she did not have Alzheimer’s. That was a “happy moment” for both of us, and it didn’t require any of the typical rational knowledge that we normally associate with a husband/wife relationship of fifty-five years. She felt good that I was there, and I felt good seeing her greet me so warmly.

You may recall two other similar experiences I have mentioned before. One involves a friend of Kate’s we saw at a movie several months ago. Kate has always liked her. We spoke for a few minutes. When we turned away to go into the theater, Kate said, “Who was that? I don’t remember her at all, but I liked her.” Indeed she did. The other involves a negative feeling and is one that has occurred several times. It’s a mug shot of Frank Sinatra that hangs in a restaurant where we eat our Sunday lunch. She can never remember who he is, but she knows she doesn’t like him. That relates to my telling her about the circumstances of his arrest for adultery and seduction. Of course, she doesn’t remember that, only her feeling about it and him.

One of the best illustrations of the pleasure she derives from sight involves the children we see wherever we go. She loves watching them and often speaks to them. Another is her love for beauty in nature. I see this most often when she comments about the trees on the neighbor’s property behind our house. It also occurs when we are driving along the highway or local streets. She often says, “I love the green.” She is referring to the green trees and shrubbery. This experience also extends to sunsets and houses. As we leave our house, she almost always says, “I like that house.” when we pass the last house on our street. When she goes through the “Big Sister” photo book that her brother Ken made, she repeatedly comments on the smiles on people’s faces, even her own. And I shouldn’t overlook the puzzles she works. She often shows me a puzzle and comments about the beautiful colors or the cute kittens, and she works those same puzzles over and over and over. In the coming year I plan to make more visits to two of our local museums and our zoo. These are also things that she appreciates through her visual ability.

Of course, our senses are working together all the time. When I describe the pleasure Kate receives from music at Casa Bella, it is really mixed with the sight of familiar faces and good feelings about those with whom we sit each time. She can enjoy a great evening without depending on any rational abilities at all.

She has had several experiences over the past two days that illustrate the interaction of sight and sound. The first occurred at lunch on New Years. As we entered Panera, we saw a man we often call Montana because he spent much of his life there. He is there almost everyday. He sits outside rain or shine in winter and summer and always wears a cowboy hat. Over the past few years, Kate has always spoken to him when we arrive. After he returned her greeting on Tuesday, she said, “I like your voice. You should be on the radio.” By itself, this is just an indication that she liked his voice, but it is also something that is a common occurrence. She doesn’t say it to everyone, but she does often tell the person or me that he or she has a nice voice. I might add that Kate no longer remembers him as Montana or his real name, but she remembers him and continues to speak with him each time she sees him.

We had two similar experiences with servers yesterday, one at lunch, the other at dinner. The server at lunch has served us for several years. We often talk with her about her daughter who is a competitive swimmer. Yesterday we caught up on our separate travels to visit family for Christmas. As we left, Kate commented on how nice she is and her “natural” way of relating to her customers. With a different server, our experience could have been quite different. The best part might have only been the meal. As it was, sight and sound made for an enjoyable social experience as well.

The experience last night was similar though different in that our server had only served us once before. We didn’t have a history with her. I try to learn our servers’ names and asked her name. A little later, I asked if she were a student. She said she was, and I asked her major. Before we left, we had found out that she used to work at Casa Bella and knows the family of the owners. After we told her goodbye, Kate said, “I’m impressed with her, and she has a beautiful voice.” Again, her pleasure didn’t rely on her rational abilities at all.

These experiences remind me once again that how much of our pleasure derives from our intuitive abilities. For the past eight years, Kate and I have emphasized these abilities. We have enjoyed life and been happy. It is only within the past six months that I have understood why. I thank Judy Cornish for opening my eyes to the value of our intuitive abilities, especially for people with dementia. That becomes their only world.

January 2, 2019

The Beginning of a New Year

I let Kate sleep until almost 12:45 yesterday. She was sleeping soundly when I woke her. She smiled and waved. I sat down on the bed and told her I would like to take her to lunch. She said she would like that. When I gave her my hand to help her up, she said, “What’s your name?” I told her, and she asked me to repeat it. She said, “Where are my clothes?” I told her they were on the chair in front of her but suggested she might want to shower first. She asked where the shower is. I took her by the hand and walked her to the bathroom. On the way I said, “Today is Virginia Franklin’s birthday.” She looked puzzled and said, “Who’s that?” I said, “She is Ken’s wife.” She said, “Who is he?” I said, “He is your brother?” She said, “What’s his last name?” I told her. Then she asked, “Who am I?” I told her. When we walked into the bathroom, she asked again, “What is my name?” I turned the shower on for her. When she got in, she said it felt good. Then she said, “I’m awake now.” And she looked and sounded like it.

I left her in the shower and told her she could call me if she needed any help with her clothes. She said, “Why should I need help?” I told her I would put her clothes on the bed by my chair where she usually sits after her shower. In a little while, I went back to check on her. She was in bed running her fingers through her hair. I told her it was 1:30 and that she might like to get ready for lunch. She asked about her clothes. She had bundled them up and thrown them toward the end of the bed. Without asking, I proceeded to get each item of clothing for her. I gave her the opportunity to dress herself. She said she wanted to do it herself, but she kept asking for my help. When she was dressed, she wanted me to brush her hair.

When she was ready, she decided to make up the bed. She had completed one side and asked me to do the other side. I noticed that she had pulled the spread over the bed without pulling up and straightening the top sheet. She was about to put one of several pillows at the head of the bed when I told her I wanted to straighten the top sheet. After I had done that, she picked up a pillow and started to put it on the bed. Then she asked me if that was the way it should be placed. I told her there was a larger pillow that would go on first. She picked it up and placed it. Then she asked if that was the right way. This was one of those little things that happen so often. It struck me that she no longer knew how to arrange the pillows. She had been very particular about that. The large pillows have birds in flight on them. I used to place them the wrong way. She would always correct me. Now she was having to depend on me. She used to make up the bed every day. I remember when she would say, “My mother always said you should make up the bed first thing after you get up.” Three or four years after her diagnosis she rarely made up the bed. I’m not sure what happened, but she started again a couple of years ago. She hasn’t done it as well as she did before, but she does her best. It’s just a little thing, but there are so many of them now.

At dinner, I mentioned something about our having so many good experiences during our marriage. Kate immediately said, “Tell me three things.” Just as quickly, I said, “We had two great children.” She said, “Who are they?” I gave her their names and then went on to some of our travel experiences including our spending a summer in Cali, Colombia when the children were seven and five. That prompted her to talk about giving children experiences that broaden their lives without spoiling them. She felt we had been able to accomplish that.

As we left for home, she said she was very tired and might go to bed shortly after we got there. Then she said, “It may be a little early for bed. I agreed. Then she said, “I can depend on you to help me know what to do.” Then she went into a familiar topic about how comfortable she feels with me. She is beginning to seem more like a little child talking to her parent.

When we got home, she wanted to follow me to the back of the house. She wanted to use the bathroom but didn’t know where to find it. A few minutes later, she used her hand signals to ask if she should sit in her chair in our bedroom where I had put her iPad. I nodded “yes.” It wasn’t long before I said, “I’m glad your my wife.” She responded sternly saying, “I’m not a wife.” I said, “What would you say you are to me?” She said, “A close friend.”

None of these things is new, but it had been a day filled with confusion. It wasn’t like this one year ago.

January 1, 2019

Reflections on 2018

As we begin this new year, I find myself reflecting on the past and thinking about 2019. Over the past couple of years, I have not been as hopeful as I was in the early years after Kate’s diagnosis. I think that is to be expected. Now we find ourselves in the later stages of Kate’s Alzheimer’s. This means that Kate will continue to decline. As she does, our lives will change as well. The most notable changes in 2018 have involved her memory loss, more confusion, sleeping later in the morning, and her growing dependence on me. All of these have led to corresponding changes in our lives.

Of course, Kate has gradually lost her memory throughout the eight years since her diagnosis in January 2011. For the most part that didn’t seem quite as problematic as it became in 2018. Part of that is psychological. For example, this was the year that she began to forget both my name and hers. More recently, she has begun to have trouble recognizing me as her husband. These changes in memory didn’t make any difference in our being active in the community. We still eat out for lunch and dinner. We continue going to the music nights at Casa Bella as well as attending other musical events in the community and listening to music at home; however, the loss of my name and hers hurts in a way that the memory of others doesn’t. This is a signal that most of her memory is gone. It has a special impact when she can’t remember our names even moments after I tell her, often immediately.

Memory loss is accompanied by greater confusion. This was the year in which she forgot a good bit about our house and the community in which we live. If asked, she couldn’t tell you where we live or where she is at the moment. She often asks me where the bathroom is in our house. She doesn’t know where her clothes are kept. As I have reported, she often thinks we are some other place than our own home. Her normal pattern when we return home is to wait for me to lead her to the back of the house. She also calls out frequently, “Hey, where are you?” when she doesn’t know where to go after going to the bathroom.

The changes in her sleep have had a greater impact on our lives than anything else. Before she started sleeping so late, we were regulars at Panera in the morning. We had gotten to know the people who work there as well as many of the regulars who stop by, not to mention the friends we know from other places that might be there. It was a stimulating experience for both of us. That is all but gone now. Most of the time we don’t leave the house until time for lunch.

The last big change for Kate has been her growing dependence on me. This was the year that I began to play a much larger role in helping her with everything. I am glad that she retains a desire to do things on her own. Just yesterday, she resisted my help with dressing and extending my hand to help her from the car as well as going up and down curbs. I hope this continues a while longer, but she is gradually turning over more and more to me. The most recent big change was accepting help showering and dressing from both of our sitters. I fully expected some resistance.

I don’t know exactly what will happen over the course of the coming year. I do know that she has made significant changes in the past 6-8 months. She is beginning to behave as one would expect of a person with Alzheimer’s. I have to expect more of that in 2019 unless she reaches a plateau. Even if that happens, it won’t be forever. That saddens me, and yet, I continue to be grateful that she has gotten along so well since her diagnosis. I am also hopeful that we will continue to enjoy life and each other even if it is not in the same way as in the past.

Kate and I are not unique in not knowing what lies ahead. The same is true for each of you reading this post. Along with my hopefulness about our own future, I wish each of you the very best in 2019. Happy New Year.