I Always Thought That...
Sun., January 6, 12:03 PM
I always thought that… Or conversely, I never dreamed that… At first it sounds like poor planning, but that isn’t it. I think it was more a matter of assumptions that I never challenged, any more than I would question whether the sun would rise in the east.
For example, I always thought I would go on working indefinitely. I like working; I enjoy being busy and making use of what I know. If not full time, I could work part time. If not for pay, I would be happy to volunteer. I can always learn more in a new environment. Who knew that some of my best working qualities — like honesty, punctuality, sincerity, and loyalty — would no longer be valued in the job market? Whoever would have thought that I would end up discontentedly working for a lazy lawyer? (He got away with such stuff because I also offer “discretion.”) Above all, I never dreamed that my vision would be what forced me to retire.
That’s another thing: I always took good care of my eyes. As far as that goes, I always thought that, if I took care of my body, my health would last longer. Oh, sure, I knew I would get diabetes, but I developed it ten years older than my father did. Even though I have kept it under good control for the last ten years, I’m now having some problems with both higher cholesterol and diabetic neuropathy. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Furthermore, at a time when additional exercise would be beneficial, I am less capable of doing it.
I also have been forgetting my own medications whenever Husband needs extra attention. There’s nothing like sitting down to take pills with your supper and seeing that the breakfast ones are still there. Eyedrops? I forgot. And I don’t know when I last tested my blood glucose. Then again, there were holiday goodies in the house…
Husband turns eighty years old on Sunday. He was forty when I met him, so I have been around nearly half of his life. I always knew we would stay together, and not just because we had stood up and spoken our vows in public. (I think that promising aloud, with witnesses, is even more powerful than the piece of paper that declares we are husband and wife.) I had also made a private vow that I would never would never desert him as so many people had done, starting with his parents. I never dreamed that his mind — his memory and personality — would go, leaving me responsible for…a stranger.
Forty years ago he would work his way through a busy, crowded family function to whisper, “you look nice.” It wasn’t suave or poetic, but it was sincere. Ten years ago he no longer paid attention; I sat in the kitchen with a red nose attached to my face and he never noticed. Now I’m just glad that he stopped telling me I “look like hell.”
Not only am I worn out with taking care of him (I really would have made a very poor nurse). I also miss the person he used to be. I’ll wish him happy birthday anyhow.
I never dreamed I would get to a point where I just don’t care. “My give-a-damn is busted.”
