There are ordinary days, then there are no turning back moments.
--Am I losing my mind?
The air froze in the room.
I wouldn't exactly put it that way.
The moment I'd been wishing for -- believing if he could just accept what was happening it would get easier for us both.
I'd say it was more of a brain thing than mind. Your brain is making your mind play tricks on you.
He stood in the doorway, his thinning arms propping himself up. This was a no turning back moment.
As I understand it, based on what they can see in your blood and spinal fluid and your eyes, it's a brain thing.
I watched his face for clues that he was ready to hear more. There were none.
--And that's why I'm taking this medicine, this Namenda and Aricept? I don't think it's doing any good.
He walked away.
There are ordinary days, then there are no turning back moments within ordinary days.
As on any ordinary Tuesday night, I was watching TV. He collapsed on the bed beside me and curled himself into the fetal position. I reached out to touch him like it was any ordinary Tuesday.
--I'm sorry things have turned out the way they have. I didn't mean it to be this way.
I heard myself gasp. I grabbed his thinning arm.
Don't even go there, Baby. Don't even go there.
Now I can't stop crying.