Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

[Guest guest]

Welcome to new members and hello to those old friends who are still

online. While I'm glad to see new people joining this group, I

realize that every member brings his or her own story of confusion,

anxiety, pain and anguish.

Kjersten reminded me one day--about six months before her death--that

she, too, was a caregiver...both for herself and for me. While I

tried to care for her, she was aware that I stretched myself too

thin...she told me, when it got late at night, to " go to bed! " She

still made, until the week before she died, my morning coffee...when

I woke up at 5 a.m., I could smell the coffee...and she seldom drank

it...she just made it for me.

And she tried to be optimistic. She had, several years before I met

her, owned a printing shop in Palm Beach, Florida. One of her

favorite plays, favorite songs, favorite quotations, was from Man of

LaMancha. She had created and printed a wonderful framed version

of " To Dream the Impossible Dream. " It hung in her office. It now

hangs in mine.

Like Dorothy, I would have periods where I would just " lose it. " I

think this is a time to hold that back from the person you are caring

for. I'm generally all for " honesty " in relationships, but I know

that while Kjersten tried to be strong, I was supposed to be stronger.

We live on a dirt road (well, it's Florida, so it's really sand).

There were times when I just needed to go for a walk. I would always

take my cell phone and Kjersten would have the cordless phone next to

her...so if she needed me, she could call. I would seldom walk for

more than 30 minutes, but sometimes those walks were pretty intense.

There were also times when I did not walk very far, but cried very

hard.

I now know, from Kjersten's journals, that she often cried when I was

away...saving her anguish and dispair for times when I would not see

or hear it. Again, while there is much to be said for

emotional " honestly, " if you will....there are moments--private

moments--for both patient and caregiver--to grieve.

Last Thursday, September 8th, was her fifty-third birthday. While

many of us who reach fifty or more not only ignore our birthday...but

hope others will too..Kjersten revelled in her birthday. She was

like a kid in some ways, but instead of ice cream and cake, she

wanted roses and a card. I always got them for her...and more.

I took roses to her grave....Can you conceive how difficult it is to

write " her grave " ? I had a small balloon on a stick (bought in a

grocery store) that I stuck in the sand that said " Happy Birthday'

Her gravesite is still unsodded. I still get to bring her flowers

and write " I Love You " in the sand above her.

On her birthday, September 8th, I left my office a little after

ten..the time I would usually call her at home to see how she was...I

park a long block away from my building and, try as I might, I began

to cry about halfway to my car. It was a difficult time...got to our

car...put my hand on it and searched for the keys...it's a little

after ten in the morning...I looked up and there was a rainbow in the

sky.

I don't know...I just don't know...but I think she's up

there...looking out for us.

Take care...life is always too short not to tell the one you love

that you love them...life is too short not to forgive the one you

love...life is too short not to forgive yourself. I'm still working

on that one.

Love to all,

Dennis