I made a peach pie and when I showed it to Gregory he replied (with excitement,) "Wonderful." Clear as day!
I told him that it was close to dinner so he could have some afterwards. "NOW," came his demand. Clear as day!
As I forked a piece of pie into his mouth, he closed his eyes and savored it! Clear as day!
After several mouthfuls I asked if we could save the rest for later, "OK." Clear as day.
His delicious dinner (I know because I tasted everything) dinner consisted of brisket, oven fried new potatoes, mixed vegetables, and devil's food cake with a cup of coffee.
After dinner we went back to the room to visit for a while. Finally it was time for me to leave so I went through my usual "exit procedure."
"I think I'll leave now (I don't say go home, I say leave) and I'll see you tomorrow. OK?" I wait for my statement to register and for him to acknowledge.
Sometimes he is light about my leaving and replies "OK." Other times he gets sad or needs to tell me about something (which he usually is unable to do,) so I stay a little longer and then go through the "exit procedure" again.
Yesterday, CLEAR AS DAY, he said "OK, I love you so much!" Clear as day.
I gave him a big hug and kiss saying, "I love you so much more (more being a play on words we always used to do.)
He came back with, "More please." So we hugged more, more and more.
Little events like this make my world large!
Showing posts with label Kisses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kisses. Show all posts
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
A Bit of Tongue
DISCLAIMER: Gay Love discussed ... but then again Straight People French Kiss also!
Gregory, as you know, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease over ten years ago. He entered the Lieberman Center last January when his abilities got to the point that I could not continue taking care of him at home.
He continues to know who I am, and often cries tears of joy when he sees me. I try to be as hands on as possible: holding hands, stroking his arm or hand, patting his knee or leg, giving massages, rubbing his newly cut crewcut. You can imagine that when the ability to communicate continues to disappear, any form of connection between him and me is so important to both of us.
Sometimes he cries from sadness. It is as if the "vail of life" slightly separates and he realizes the "boat he is in" and is overwhelmed with sadness. When that happens (it happened twice yesterday) I rock him and we usually cry together.
Two amazing things happened yesterday that I so appreciated and enjoyed.
During one of the sad crying, I was holding him and rocking with him (not as easy as it sounds since I have to straddle his wheel chair to get close enough) when he reached up and hugged me around the shoulder. He usually cannot communicate brain to arm so this was a monumental experience.
The second amazing thing happened when I said goodbye. When I say goodbye, I go through my usual speech, "I am going to leave now but I will visit again tomorrow. OK?" I wait for an answer. If he needs more time to think about what I said or doesn't seem to be focused, I repeat myself, "I am going now but I will visit again tomorrow. OK?" Sometimes it takes three times. Finally he says something like, "OK." or "That will be fine."
Then I give him a kiss. Usually the kiss is a pre-teenager type kiss with emphasis on squeezing my lips to his and then finishing with a loud SMACK to make sure the love of the kiss has been delivered. Due to the delay in his thinking, he usually SMACKs back after I have moved my lips away from his.
This time as I was pressing my lips to his, he slightly opened his lips (like big people kiss) and then tentatively explored my mouth with his tongue. Wow. Just like the old days when love was passion. I explored back and our tongues flicked each other back and forth. I could tell that he knew that we both knew that the communication had been made. It was so important to have experienced this once again.
Gregory, as you know, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease over ten years ago. He entered the Lieberman Center last January when his abilities got to the point that I could not continue taking care of him at home.
He continues to know who I am, and often cries tears of joy when he sees me. I try to be as hands on as possible: holding hands, stroking his arm or hand, patting his knee or leg, giving massages, rubbing his newly cut crewcut. You can imagine that when the ability to communicate continues to disappear, any form of connection between him and me is so important to both of us.
Sometimes he cries from sadness. It is as if the "vail of life" slightly separates and he realizes the "boat he is in" and is overwhelmed with sadness. When that happens (it happened twice yesterday) I rock him and we usually cry together.
Two amazing things happened yesterday that I so appreciated and enjoyed.
During one of the sad crying, I was holding him and rocking with him (not as easy as it sounds since I have to straddle his wheel chair to get close enough) when he reached up and hugged me around the shoulder. He usually cannot communicate brain to arm so this was a monumental experience.
The second amazing thing happened when I said goodbye. When I say goodbye, I go through my usual speech, "I am going to leave now but I will visit again tomorrow. OK?" I wait for an answer. If he needs more time to think about what I said or doesn't seem to be focused, I repeat myself, "I am going now but I will visit again tomorrow. OK?" Sometimes it takes three times. Finally he says something like, "OK." or "That will be fine."
Then I give him a kiss. Usually the kiss is a pre-teenager type kiss with emphasis on squeezing my lips to his and then finishing with a loud SMACK to make sure the love of the kiss has been delivered. Due to the delay in his thinking, he usually SMACKs back after I have moved my lips away from his.
This time as I was pressing my lips to his, he slightly opened his lips (like big people kiss) and then tentatively explored my mouth with his tongue. Wow. Just like the old days when love was passion. I explored back and our tongues flicked each other back and forth. I could tell that he knew that we both knew that the communication had been made. It was so important to have experienced this once again.
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