Another milestone

Sometimes something happens that can seem totally insignificant to the outside world but when it happens to you it comes like a blow to the stomach.  There've been lots of these small events over the past few years as Ash has gradually morphed into another being, one unrecognisable from the man I used to know and this morning yet another one came out of nowhere and knocked me sideways.  We'd planned to go over to my mum's house to check on everything but then I looked at the forecast again and didn't like the look of Storm Dennis so went off to find Ash and tell him I thought it might be better to go another day.  Now this is a man who liked nothing better than to take his truck out into the snow and see how many times he could get it to spin on the (empty) icy roads;  the man who took one look at the 'black' sign at the top of a ski slope and unthinkingly turned his skis in the direction of the bottom; who taught himself to surf in the middle of the ocean in France with no-one else in sight; whose favourite saying was 'it'll be ok, what are you worrying about?'.  This morning the man who had a zest for life, a joy of the world, threaded through his whole being and who went through each day with barely a care to his name heard the news that we weren't about to drive through a storm and I could see the anxiety leave his body as he said 'is that ok? only I'll feel safer at home and I really don't think we should be out in all this'.  I looked at this once vibrant husband of mine and saw an anxious old man who, once again, I realised I didn't know.  What I do know however is that it's quite scary sometimes to think that all responsibility for our life is now on me but it is what it is and it's that choice again of sink or swim.  Today (and tomorrow) I choose to swim.


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Comments

Lesley said…
You made the right decision and, as a result, you put his mind at rest. You will keep doing that, you know you are capable of doing that and you should take great pride in it - it's the only way forward (or, at least, the BEST way forward). xxx
Sarah H said…
You are incredibly strong, my friend and I am in awe of how positively you are dealing with this . . . xx
Jane said…
I didn't make the decision for his benefit though but for mine and because he was always so fearless, even though I know he's a different person now, I half expected him to say 'don't be silly, we'll be fine'. Instead of that I discovered all over again that I'm now married to a man old before his time and however much I try I can't help but hate it.
dasntn said…
Jane
you are doing really well. The changes people go through with this disease can be really dramatic

Sometimes I think I am guilty of forgetting who my wife used to be - maybe it's a coping mechanism.
She was a feisty businesswoman, driven and sometimes a touch intimidating. That seems such a long time ago.
Lesley said…
You are amazing - so, so hard, but you are incredibly strong. Keep doing what you're doing xxx
Jane said…
I know what you mean about forgetting the person they once were David. Occasionally I phone our landline just to listen to the message Ash left on the machine around 10 years ago. Just listening to his voice helps me remember who he used to be.