This disease is the death of a thousand cuts with a vengeance. Every "cut", however miniscule, hurts ...
Would it help any if you told yourself that hanging up the shorts neatly was a sign of your husband's continuing desire for order and a sign of his brave determination to fight the disorder of the disease as best he can?
Mum used to break my heart at the beginning of her illness by grimly reading the daily 'paper to keep her mind alive. Her instincts were right I feel. Her decline's been comparatively slow.