For better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.
That’s what we signed up for.
Then you read stuff that someone writes that negates all that in their opinion, telling people to do what feels best for them. However, doing as promised is better.
A vow is stronger than an opinion or a feeling.
If you think YOU have it hard, taking care of the loved one who doesn’t remember your name and does all those things a dementia patient does, imagine how hard it is for them!
They have to swallow their pride and allow people to help them, when they used to be the ones in charge of their lives, when they ate, what they wore, when they took a nap. They used to be able to remember to swallow, and now, in late stages, their brain doesn’t always even tell themselves to swallow!
They used to have your respect. They know when they are not loved. Forgotten. Ignored, They know. They may not remember the day, but they know you are very important to them. Their love core isn’t demented.
If you think it’s hard for you, imagine how hard it is for them to be dying.
It’s not stupid or weak to live up to your vows. It’s smart and strong to get as much help as you need, and as much as you can when you are taking care of a person with dementia, but being long-suffering is beautiful, honest, loving, kind, and right.
I’ve seen it both ways. Working in a memory care facility, where the doors lock them in so they don’t wander off, don’t get hurt, don’t get lost… where they can tell you, “They’ve dumped me here and locked me in to die.”
They know they are locked in and they desperately want their freedom again. They want to go to the UPS store they see out their window. They want to drive their car again to get a coffee and donut. In later stages, they are more out of it, and cannot drive, of course, but some of them in the earlier stages that qualified them to get in there really seemed quite normal some of the time.
Oh, the tears when a visiting relative leaves (leaves the patient behind.) The marriage part of relating normally to each other is over. He may look blankly at you when you come to visit, but inside, he knows it’s you. It might break your heart he never calls you or says he loves you anymore, and forget getting a Valentines Day card from him. He’s not allowed out to go shopping! So, the free spouse feels unloved and instead of having a 50-50 relationship, it’s not 95-05. “In sickness and in health” is really being put to the test!
They cried when no one sent cards or called on their birthday. They lived for their spouses to visit. There was one spouse who visited quite often, but some man on the outside talked her into an affair. (The facts have been altered to protect the innocent.)
She’d long ago promised herself for her husband and she knew it. She wasn’t the only part of the marriage that was sleeping alone. At least she had her freedom and didn’t have to live in a place with the doors locked and mediocre meals and strangers making you take your shower. She ended up feeling real guilty, and gosh, what a lousy foundation was laid for a new relationship. If the man had had a conscience, he could’ve provided moral support for her, but not bedroom support.
It’s not my opinion. It’s from that book that’s been circulating for centuries… The Bible. If there is any part of you feeling tempted to date while your dementia-patient-spouse is still alive, the Bible is the guidance that will tell you to resist that temptation. For anyone whose had to be faithful when you are craving to feel loved… you know choosing the harder “right thing” is better than the easier wrong thing, and it’s actually, factually correct to stay faithful until death do you part. And there is a lot less scorn from those in the loop if you do!
Don’t tell me not to judge. I didn’t judge. I observed. I reported. I am sad for all of them, for the guilt and broken vows and loneliness and the withering of life, and difficulty of dementia, and how she hated, hated with a “haaaattteddd” putting him in there, but she had to have help.
Some humans are better caregivers than others. Some have larger families, more money, more patience, more knowledge of the disease…
If had dementia, I’d appreciate my husband suffering his loneliness and the grief of losing me to the disease … with me until I pass. He could write me love letters or pray or volunteer …or find a great hobby or do something while I’m still alive, anything except replace me.
Letters To A Puzzled World 