I have wanted to write this post for a long time but I have been too chicken.  But many people have said that God must have a purpose in keeping Bob alive.  Maybe the purpose is so I will write on this subject?! Now that I have your attention, let me update you on Bob's condition first.  He is down to 126 pounds, but he seemed to be choking some, so my favorite nurse suggested that they puree his food.  He seems to be eating a bit better since then, but I am still allowed to give him Teddy Grahams, which he seems to like now. There is still a lot of blood in his urine, and now he is passing blood clots.  But to look at him, you wouldn't know anything is wrong, and he still has a very firm grasp on my hand.  On Father's Day when our son Ron was there, he even batted a balloon a little.  

Now for the juicy part.  When I went on the trip to Maryland, I was able to stop by the church where we got married.  Looking at it made me remember all over again why I married Bob.  In addition to his regular job, he was caretaker of the church, both inside and out.  He kept flowers planted in the summer.  It is the church where, with my father officiating we said our vows: "For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as we both shall live."  I posted the picture on Facebook, and there were 84 reactions to it.  Some comments also mentioned that they too had been married in that church.  And one comment I laughed at said that it was on the porch of that church where she first saw women with no seam up the back of their nylons!  Such scandal!  What would old people think of the bare legs today?!  But seeing the church sparked other memories for me.  After church, after everyone was gone, Bob would lock up the church.  A friend of his had a convertible and 6 of us would pile into it.  Bob and I always sat in the front seat, as it was a bench seat!  We would go to the Hot Shoppes on Edmondson Avenue, and Bob would buy everyone lunch.  I will send this blog to Sid, another occupant of the car!  After lunch, they would drive Bob and I back to the church, and go on their way.  The church wasn't air conditioned, but Bob had carefully turned on the window air conditioner in the pastors study before we left so it was nice and cool.  We spent the afternoon there.  Maybe the windows steamed up, I don't know.  We had decided not to have premarital sex, so we left our clothes on.  And that is all I am going to say about that.  A year later after our wedding and the reception in the annex, we were out on that same porch when the old German man that was going to take Bob's place came up to him and asked if Bob was going to stay and clean up the church.  Um, NO!  We were anxious to go get a room!  We headed toward the destination of our first job in Hinsdale, Illinois pulling a small U-Haul with all our earthly possessions.  We stopped at the first motel we saw on the Pennsylvania turnpike, and fortunately it was a nice one.  One of the church ladies that had taken Bob under her wing and was like a surrogate mother to him had told him since I would have a filmy negligee (I did) that he should have a nightshirt, which he dutifully put on.  A few days after we got to our new apartment a package came in the mail.  It was the nightshirt that we had left at the motel and we hadn't even missed it!  He never wore it again.  And that is all I'm going to say about that.  

Now to the real subject of this post.  The Creator made male and female and it is normal to long for the the companionship of the opposite sex.  But as it does with everything, Alzheimer's turns everything upside down.  I think of a book I read early in our journey into Alzheimer's.  The title is "Jan's Story", and the author is her husband, Barry Petersen.  Some of you may remember him as a correspondent for CBS news.  Jan was a vibrant, active, and healthy lady who was also a correspondent for CBS news.  They traveled extensively together.  Then Barry started seeing changes in Jan, and thought, just like I did with Bob, that it was only jet lag.  Then came the diagnosis, and Jan was only 55.  Since it was early onset, it progressed rapidly.  Long story short, Barry met another lady, and they became a couple.  Jan was in a facility by that time, but Barry still watched over her lovingly and they became a three-some.  At the time, I remember thinking "How could he do that?" But as the years have passed, and the long good-bye of Alzheimer's drags on, I have learned not to judge anyone.  I belong to 2 support groups.  One is for the widowers and widows; have I mentioned how much I hate that word?  It reminds me of a spider.  I am so glad that they invited me to join their group as we went through so much together.  Several of their spouses died during Covid.  I have seen how different people handle the need for companionship.  Sometimes as soon as the spouse dies, some will get on Match.com.  Others will wait awhile.  And some people I know have gotten happily remarried.  The consensus in that group seems to be that most would like to have a friend to go to dinner with, but not get married again, and I think I fall in that category.  I know Bob was always faithful to me even though he traveled a lot and I have always been faithful to him. But I am going to go see the Elvis movie tomorrow.  Now if Elvis wanted to make passionate love to me (HA, HA) could I resist the wiles of the devil?!  Oh wait!  He would be 80 plus years old, and not such a pretty picture anymore!  The point I am trying to get across is, don't condemn someone until you have walked in their moccasins. 

I terribly miss the Bob that was Bob.  We always held hands wherever we went.  Except church, when we were going in opposite directions to our various duties, arms weighed down with "stuff".  Now when I see a couple walking along holding hands, I almost get misty-eyed.  We had "to have and to hold" for many years, and I am so blessed by that.  I cherish the memories, and if you still have your beloved, please give them an extra kiss tonight.

Betty