Jerome has Died

Jerome was my friend.  And he stopped breathing this morning – June 17, 2009 – at 10:45.

Jerome is Dying

My friend is dying.

Did I tell you that my friend’s name is Jerome?  His middle name is Charles.  That’s where I got the Carl from.

Alzheimer’s: I Wish I Could Help More

I wish I could do more to help Carl.  I wish, to the most wonderful stars in Mr. Sagan’s Cosmos, that I had some way to do more to help my friend.  To help my best friend in the world – at this time, when he needs help more than he has ever, in his life, needed help.  At this time, when there’s no other person or place or power he can look to for help.

But that’s exactly what every other Alzheimer’s caregiver feels, isn’t it?  Millions and millions and millions of people.  Even if their situation isn’t exactly the same as mine, they fervently hurl an identical plea into the implacable ether.

Alzheimer’s: The Path Beyond the Tears

“As we walked, every two minutes, I would seize up, surging close to convulsing into tears.”

Those were my words. I wrote them in my initial post to this blog, a little over six months ago.

Alone & Confused

I get this withering alone feeling. When I try to share with Carl what’s going on in our lives, and I get an empty, blank response, I find myself feeling abandoned.

At times, I feel guilty about these emotional responses. It seems like maturity and society dictate implacably that I shouldn’t be worrying about these things, much less talking about them. I certainly shouldn’t be writing about them, for all and sundry to see. Sacre bleu!

But further thinking tells me that these feelings are real and substantial. They are a dangerous part of what I’m experiencing – and of what Carl is enduring. They are a grim part of what anyone in a similar situation is feeling.

We ignore them at our peril.