Sit Back and Turn Up the Sound

Sometimes I must escape.  Not from the truth of Barb’s dementia, but from despair.  I escape into tv and Netflix.  She sits beside me, springing up every two minutes for some task.  Or she begins reading the same John Grisham novel.  Begins again.

Despair can ruin you.  I am a Christian, with the knowledge that my strength is love.  And faith.  And hope.  Hope?  Some say that despair is the result of failed hope.  That it’s the price we pay for setting an impossible aim.  I hope that the Alzheimer’s disease will not worsen.  I hope that I will not lose more of her.  I remember how we were and because I remember, I despair. 

Some say that desparation is required for drastic change to occur.  That to rise from despair, I must leave the Barbara I knew behind, reject despair and embrace a new hope, a new Barbara.  That this is my duty.  That to hope is better than to despair.

I say, I did not choose despair.  But I can choose courage.  God grant me the courage to take action in spite of despair, to search and discover life in this new relationship with this new woman — my precious wife of thirty-plus years. 

Still, sometimes I must escape.