More about Ash, less about me (possibly).

 I had so many lovely messages after my last post that I'm more determined than ever to keep up with the blog from now on and it's nice to know that you want to hear about the next phase in my life.

Elaine also wanted to hear more about Ash but I'm finding that difficult.  Not because I don't want to talk about him but more because I'm no longer a huge part of his life and definitely don't understand what goes through his head any more.

Before I went away I visited every week.  We mostly walked into town and stopped somewhere for a cup of tea, always the same route and always the same tea/coffee shop just because I felt on firm ground for conversation.  Not real conversation of course because most of the time I have no idea what Ash is talking about.  Words come out of his mouth but in no particular order and, although they have meaning for him, all I can do is nod, smile and make noises signalling agreement.  Our walk into town however means I can ramble on about which house we'll buy when we win the lottery, what changes we'll make to that house and how we'll use the garden.  All complete nonsense but Ash seems to like it and smiles a lot as we make our way along the road.  Once in town we go to Costa.  I really struggle with my conscience at that point because there are so many lovely independent coffee shops we could use but this isn't about me it's about him and Costa is on the main street with people constantly walking past.  Not only that but we've never failed to get a window seat which gives me even more things to point out and more for Ash to smile about.  The visit usually lasts about an hour and a half and by the time we're halfway back he's ready to be in his familiar surroundings.  

When I went two weeks ago he hadn't seen me for a month but there was no recognition of that fact.  I got a hug as usual but I really don't think he knows exactly who I am.  I'm very sure he knows I'm someone important in his life, and I do know that I'm the only person allowed to trim his beard, but I don't think for a minute he recognises me as Jane his wife, the person he's shared his life with for nearly forty seven years.  

Dementia makes for a very odd marriage companion and sometimes I'm sad about it all but mostly I put my chin up, my shoulders back and look to the future.  It might be different to the one I thought I'd have but that doesn't mean I can't create a life I want out of what's left.

As for the home, it's just about everything I wanted for Ash.  It's calm and quiet which he needs; the staff know him very well indeed and he's obviously happy there.  How do I know? Because he's eating, he's sleeping and he's never anxious when I see him or when I leave.  If I compare the Ash of five months ago to the one I see on a weekly basis now I can tell immediately which life he prefers and it's not one which includes me.  That's only difficult if I allow it to be so instead I've decided to take everything he taught me about enjoying life and make the most of what's to come.

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