As I was getting Carl settled this morning, on the couch in the livingroom, with his breakfast Cheereos, coffee, and newspaper, I thought about the several times, in our 33 years together, when he would playfully suggest that I make his coffee – or that I get him some fresh coffee – or whatever other amusing idea popped into his head.
I always declined. Completely apart from the fact that the suggestion was playful, I was wary of getting into that sort of pattern – with coffee – or with any other routine need.
The bitter sweet, ironic agony is that’s exactly what I’m doing today.
1 response so far ↓
shussmallworld // February 15, 2008 at 9:13 pm
I found your site from Blythe’s blog. I’ve added you to my blogroll so that I can follow along with you. My daughter and I are caring for my mother who has Alzheimer’s, and it is a situation those who don’t live with it don’t understand. I’m thankful to find those who do, like you, here to share with. Thank you!
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