PLEASE NOTE: Even though this blog is now dormant there are many useful, insightful posts. Scroll back from the end or forward from the beginning. Also, check out my writer's blog. Periodically I will add posts here if they provide additional information about living well with Dementia / Alzheimer's Disease.

Monday, March 31, 2014

Today at Lieberman

Today, I got to Lieberman by 1:00. Gregory was happy to see me and seemed able to focus pretty quickly on my presence. He asked a question I haven't heard in several weeks, "Where have you been?" My stock reply, "Shopping." He laughed. I laughed.

I sent Manny on a "break" so Gregory and I could be alone. Very often we just make "nice/nice" or sing or sit and watch South Pacific, the musical. Often I get there by mealtime and I sit with Manny or Alaksh and help Gregory with his lunch or dinner. Sometimes, if I am the only one there on that day, I will take turns feeding him and helping him feed himself.

I pulled his wheel chair as close to me, head on, as I could. "Can we talk?" I asked. "I love you so much and really miss you. You mean so much to me and I want you to know that I am here for you, to help you and to take care of you. I know that we both didn't expect it to be like this but this is our life now. I wish I could make it all better but we both know I cannot.

I hope you are happy here and know that everyone likes you and is taking good care of you. I am happy. I want you to know that. I hope you are happy too. The money is OK so we don't have to worry about that. Now that you are OKed for Medicaid, all of this help is free, we don't have to pay a penny. (Actually his Social Security money goes to support, in part, the Lieberman fees.)

I know you have forgiven me for the times when I was mean or angry. I know it wasn't your fault but I am just human. You have been a trooper through all of this and have been so accepting and loving.

I am not sure if you understand everything I am saying but I wanted to say it. You don't have to say anything to me because I can see all your love for me in your eyes. In your and my tears. It is OK for us to cry together. Then we can be happy again. Or maybe the tears are of happiness. Tears of love.

You are my love. You are my boyfriend. Your are my best friend. I love you so."

At this point I offered Gregory a tissue. I had been wiping both of our tears but now he put it to his nose and blew. Still knows how to do that. We held hands the entire time.

At one point I got on my knees in front of the wheel chair and laid my head in his lap. He put his hand on my head and patted me. It was not easy for him to control his muscles but he did it and we both felt good. I kissed him all over his face and sang, "Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Ball of Fur. Happy Kitty. Sleep Kitty. Purr. Purr. Purr."

This is the song that Dr. Sheldon Cooper's (from the TV series Big Bang Theory) mother used to sing to him when he was sick. It has become Gregory and my theme song. Often I will tip his chair back, put a pillow under his head, and sing him into a nap. Which I did after our talk. I also put a blanket over him because blankets are warming and comforting when taking a nap, even when you have Alzheimer's and even when you are in a wheel chair.

It was a good afternoon.

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