it is dying twice My wife is now in a nursing home has little recollection of home and smiles and talks nonsense.
She is dead to me mentally but not physically. Every where in the flat is things that remind me-those wonderful colourful cushions with Picasso images she bought in France; all the colourful pottery she insisted in buying usually against my better judgement.
All her clothes ( she needs very little in a nursing home ) are still in the cupboard. In some ways I want to get rid as they are a permanent reminder but I cannot.
And that is the worse thing she is dead and gone in every sense except one,and I will see her again to day knowing she has no recollection of all the happy times we had together and knowing that she now relates more to the staff than me
And then one day and I hope not too far off she will die and I can greave all over again
It is so difficult to cope with.I took some photos recently of her sitting in a chair and her expression breaks me up everytime cos it says I don't know what is happening to me and no one can explain to her.
Parting is not a sweet sorrow
She is dead to me mentally but not physically. Every where in the flat is things that remind me-those wonderful colourful cushions with Picasso images she bought in France; all the colourful pottery she insisted in buying usually against my better judgement.
All her clothes ( she needs very little in a nursing home ) are still in the cupboard. In some ways I want to get rid as they are a permanent reminder but I cannot.
And that is the worse thing she is dead and gone in every sense except one,and I will see her again to day knowing she has no recollection of all the happy times we had together and knowing that she now relates more to the staff than me
And then one day and I hope not too far off she will die and I can greave all over again
It is so difficult to cope with.I took some photos recently of her sitting in a chair and her expression breaks me up everytime cos it says I don't know what is happening to me and no one can explain to her.
Parting is not a sweet sorrow