Missing the one you love

Ash and I always shared a sense of the ridiculous.  Together with Jake our family hobby was people watching and often we wouldn't even need to say anything for the other two to pick up on what had been spotted.  We would smile at the same things, comment on shared views or, often, burst out laughing over something without a comment being needed.  I miss that so much.  It's not that the shared humour has disappeared altogether but more that it can't be guaranteed.  The man that could make me laugh from the moment I woke up until the moment I went to sleep is disappearing before my eyes and, although I'm getting used to it, sometimes I turn to say something and catch my breath when I realise that at this particular moment I will be wasting my time.  I have amazing people in my life that I laugh with, others that share my sense of humour and even more people who join me in seeing the ridiculous in certain situations but Ash was the one person who could be guaranteed to get my jokes with no explanation required.  Sometimes it still happens but more often he looks quizzically at me and asks what I'm smiling at.  At those times I realise I'm living with a stranger and all over again I miss the man I've shared my life with for the past 43 years.  Most people think that grief comes when a loved one dies.  Those of us living a life affected by dementia know it can come much earlier than that.


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Comments

Lesley said…
Sending love. (Wish I could help more but, as you know, I have a very underdeveloped sense of humour - I will still need your training!) xxx
Sarah H said…
Me too . . . (and that!)
Jane said…
Sorry, only happens when I'm tired which is now. Everything will look better tomorrow.
Ann said…
I’m reading your comments with tears in my eyes. I know exactly what you mean Jane. This feeling of grief and loss hits me at least once a day.

Please don’t apologise for writing these words, you have every right to comment on how the effects of Dementia makes you feel. Plus it helps me, in that I am not alone...
Jane said…
But the feeling doesn't last and that's a good thing. Life is too short to be miserable and I like training my friends to appreciate my sense of humour!
Anonymous said…
Indeed it doesn’t....laughter is most definitely the best medicine. Keep up the good work Jane!
Ann said…
Whoops...that last comment was mine. Pressed the wrong button 🙄