We are still in the midst of the pandemic--only one of the storms that has struck during this Alzheimer's journey.  But I am so thankful that Bob remains in a safe harbor to weather this out.  The facility has no COVID patients.  They sent one out to be tested, but the result was negative.  I am sure it is because they were proactive in shutting down, and I am so thankful for that, and that God saw to it that Bob was where he needed to be during this time.  I had a scheduled care plan conference with the facility last week, and Bob is still gaining weight.  They Facetime with me every day so I can see him and he looks good.  One day I was talking a mile a minute to him and telling him everything I am doing, and he looked straight at the screen and said "Blah, blah, blah!"  That was a shock because he rarely says anything now--can you imagine?  The caregiver and I both broke out in laughter!  I am just so thankful as well that I don't think the passage of time means anything to him and he doesn't realize I am not coming.  That would break my heart.  I think the facility will be one of the last things to open up again and I am fine with that.  It is such a vulnerable population and I fear that a "second wave" would be a real possibility if things are opened too soon.  At the same time, I feel so sad for the people that need to return to work to just pay the rent and buy food.  And for the small businesses owners whose dreams have been shattered and probably will never reopen.  I cannot imagine what that must be like.
I have pared down the slides to a manageable number and am quite proud of that.  Now I am starting on the file cabinets in the basement.  I have come across things from my grade school days, and even letters from when we lived in Africa.  I had a file with just different programs we put on.  One was from our high school days; we did it for speech class.  Bob was a young shopkeeper in a cheese store and I was an old lady customer who was deaf as a doorknob.  He kept asking me what kind of cheese I wanted, and I would respond with "Yes, it is a lovely breeze" and "Oh, you have to sneeze" and other dumb things like that.  He finally came to the end of his rope and was yelling "Cheese!  I said Cheese!" at me when the owner came in and asked what was going on.  He told the owner how dumb I was, and the owner came over to me and put his arm around me and said, "But you know the customer is always right."  Bob fainted.  This became more truth than fiction in later years as our hearing mutually decreased.  And we would look at each other and laugh and say "Cheese!"  Next, I am going to start on the 60 years and 2 full file drawers of birthday, anniversary, Valentine etc cards.  That will be more difficult, but again, each one will spark a wonderful memory.
I am going to end with a devotional by Max Lucado.  It seems especially appropriate right now with the journey we are all on together.

"For some of you, the journey has been long.  Very long and stormy.  In no way do I wish to minimize the difficulties that you have had to face along the way.  Some of you have shouldered burdens that few of us could every carry.  You have bid farewell to life-long partners.  You have been robbed of life-long dreams.  You have been given bodies that can't sustain your spirit.  You have bills that outnumber the paychecks and challenges that outweigh the strength.
And you are tired.
It's hard for you to see the City in the midst of the storms.  The desire to pull over to the side of the road and get out entices you.  You want to go on, but some days the road seems so long.
Let me encourage you....God never said that the journey would be easy, but He did say that the arrival would be worthwhile.
What we see will last only a short time, but what we cannot see will last forever.  I Cor. 4:18"

Hang on, my friend.  Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
Love and virtual hugs to you all,
Betty