So proud of my husband.
It has been quite a bit of a week for him, especially as he has been battling a heavy cold which has led to him being quite confused and disorientated.
The week started off quite miserably - in fact I was so down that I couldn't even put my thoughts down in writing at the time.
It was the funeral of a lady he used to work with. He had known her for years, so was very keen to attend the funeral - so much so that for a good week beforehand he had woken up and started to get ready for the funeral - it was obviously playing on his mind so much that he didn't want to miss it.
The funeral went well - but it was at the wake that I became heartbroken for him. So many former colleagues there, and so many deliberately trying to avoid speaking to him, even to the point of forming little tight-knit groups and turning their backs to him. They didn't say 'go away' in so many words - but it couldn't have been clearer.
I just saw my husband standing there, looking lost. He'd gone to such efforts to turn out for the funeral and pay his respects. He didn't deserve this attitude at all. I don't care how difficult people find dementia to cope with - there is no excuse for such cold-hearted rudeness. These were people who, until dementia set in for my husband, would actively seek him out for a chat or an evening out, he was so popular, everyone was happy to be around him.
I steered him around the room and thank goodness we did find a group of five people who really welcomed him and were very understanding when he battled to find the words he wanted to say. It took me a good few days to get over this horrible feeling of depression though because of the reaction of the majority.
My husband was obviously aware too, because as we made our way home he said to me: "I just feel so stupid."
Anyway, once the funeral was out the way, my husband focused on the next big event to be remembered - he wanted to make sure that he didn't forget Valentine's Day, bless him.
Despite not feeling well, he walked to the local shops and purchased a card - then put it in his bedside cabinet so he didn't lose it.
The next couple of days were spent asking what gift he should get. He wanted to buy flowers, but his illness was making him more incoherent and I didn't want him going back out into the cold for flowers. We settled on buying ourselves a joint present -a bottle of our favourite liqueur to share. It was also agreed that I would be the one to go and buy it for us.
That is why it was quite a surprise yesterday when I came home from work at lunchtime (I work from home during the afternoons now so that my husband is not alone all day) - and in the sink was a huge bouquet of red roses! He'd made an extra special effort to go and buy them.
The moment was tinged with sadness though as I also noticed that he was trying to make himself a sandwich - and for the first time he couldn't complete the task (I am hoping this is down to him still feeling poorly and the ability will return when he is feeling better).
I told him how lovely the flowers were and put them in water before making him lunch. I know how difficult it was for him to go to the supermarket to buy them, not just because he is feeling poorly, but because his communication is a lot worse and I know that he would have struggled finding the flowers and paying for them at the check out.
He then brought the Valentine's Day card to me. I said (gently) not to give it to me now - that I would look at it tomorrow, on Valentine's Day. Then it became clear that he had been struggling to write the words he wanted to say and needed help writing the card out - so I said I'd get our son or daughter to help him when they were back home a little later on.
My daughter ended up helping him - but it was a mammoth struggle for my husband. When he came downstairs from writing my card last night he looked physically drained and he kept saying how he hadn't been able to write it properly and how frustrated he felt.
I told him that the sheer effort he had put into getting me flowers, buying a card and writing a message meant more to me than he could ever imagine - because I had seen for myself just what he'd put himself through in order to do it.
This morning the flowers look glorious on the table, his card sits alongside them with the message 'love you always' written very carefully - and we are looking forward to a little tipple of our favourite liqueur this evening.
It is a lovely Valentine's Day and I feel blessed to have such a caring and determined husband
It has been quite a bit of a week for him, especially as he has been battling a heavy cold which has led to him being quite confused and disorientated.
The week started off quite miserably - in fact I was so down that I couldn't even put my thoughts down in writing at the time.
It was the funeral of a lady he used to work with. He had known her for years, so was very keen to attend the funeral - so much so that for a good week beforehand he had woken up and started to get ready for the funeral - it was obviously playing on his mind so much that he didn't want to miss it.
The funeral went well - but it was at the wake that I became heartbroken for him. So many former colleagues there, and so many deliberately trying to avoid speaking to him, even to the point of forming little tight-knit groups and turning their backs to him. They didn't say 'go away' in so many words - but it couldn't have been clearer.
I just saw my husband standing there, looking lost. He'd gone to such efforts to turn out for the funeral and pay his respects. He didn't deserve this attitude at all. I don't care how difficult people find dementia to cope with - there is no excuse for such cold-hearted rudeness. These were people who, until dementia set in for my husband, would actively seek him out for a chat or an evening out, he was so popular, everyone was happy to be around him.
I steered him around the room and thank goodness we did find a group of five people who really welcomed him and were very understanding when he battled to find the words he wanted to say. It took me a good few days to get over this horrible feeling of depression though because of the reaction of the majority.
My husband was obviously aware too, because as we made our way home he said to me: "I just feel so stupid."
Anyway, once the funeral was out the way, my husband focused on the next big event to be remembered - he wanted to make sure that he didn't forget Valentine's Day, bless him.
Despite not feeling well, he walked to the local shops and purchased a card - then put it in his bedside cabinet so he didn't lose it.
The next couple of days were spent asking what gift he should get. He wanted to buy flowers, but his illness was making him more incoherent and I didn't want him going back out into the cold for flowers. We settled on buying ourselves a joint present -a bottle of our favourite liqueur to share. It was also agreed that I would be the one to go and buy it for us.
That is why it was quite a surprise yesterday when I came home from work at lunchtime (I work from home during the afternoons now so that my husband is not alone all day) - and in the sink was a huge bouquet of red roses! He'd made an extra special effort to go and buy them.
The moment was tinged with sadness though as I also noticed that he was trying to make himself a sandwich - and for the first time he couldn't complete the task (I am hoping this is down to him still feeling poorly and the ability will return when he is feeling better).
I told him how lovely the flowers were and put them in water before making him lunch. I know how difficult it was for him to go to the supermarket to buy them, not just because he is feeling poorly, but because his communication is a lot worse and I know that he would have struggled finding the flowers and paying for them at the check out.
He then brought the Valentine's Day card to me. I said (gently) not to give it to me now - that I would look at it tomorrow, on Valentine's Day. Then it became clear that he had been struggling to write the words he wanted to say and needed help writing the card out - so I said I'd get our son or daughter to help him when they were back home a little later on.
My daughter ended up helping him - but it was a mammoth struggle for my husband. When he came downstairs from writing my card last night he looked physically drained and he kept saying how he hadn't been able to write it properly and how frustrated he felt.
I told him that the sheer effort he had put into getting me flowers, buying a card and writing a message meant more to me than he could ever imagine - because I had seen for myself just what he'd put himself through in order to do it.
This morning the flowers look glorious on the table, his card sits alongside them with the message 'love you always' written very carefully - and we are looking forward to a little tipple of our favourite liqueur this evening.
It is a lovely Valentine's Day and I feel blessed to have such a caring and determined husband
