a quiet morning
so far it is undisturbed
i wait for some noise


Morning.  My office is softly lit and I'm surfing the net and drinking coffee.   The PSW is showering and dressing Bob, she's got a constant stream of chatter going to entertain him.  He'd lose his mind if I talked that much, but he seems to be amused by her.  He's getting so old in his soul, my husband, that irreverent boy somehow taken over by an old man who is life-weary.  I don't blame him, but every once in a while, I really miss him.

The dogs lay around me.  They love when I work in my office, and chat with them while I do. 

Bob's had 4 calls to security in a week - 3 at work  and one with me at the mall.  I love those moments when I have to gracefully exit the men's washroom, enter a store to find a manager, ask them to call security and then go back into the men's washroom to wait.  And then to instruct two guys in their 20s how to lift and hold my husband so I can finish re-dressing him and get him safely into his chair.  At work, it's probably worse, with no wife to manage all of that for him and just 2 security guys (and where he works, heavily armed) to pick him up and pull up his pants. 

I'm not sure why he still goes in.  Pride?  Perseverance?  Stubbornness?  I wouldn't.  There's no way.  But we're different like that.  I'd be looking into assisted suicide (not that I think he should - I'm just saying what I would do!), and already retired, and finding a way to read and watch TV all day.  He perseveres and then occasionally - usually when I'm on my way out with friends or have plans - asks if we should model the house to take care of him here or sell it so he can go into a nursing home.  It's like - emotional bombs - these conversations.

What do I want?  I want this to not get any worse, or to get better, and to care for him here.  I want him to retire or go off on disability, and find something simple he can do that doesn't stress him out and allows him to be somewhere safe all day.  But that's not my reality.  Later?  Maybe we can do this here, maybe we can't.  He asked the other day, "where do you want to live after me?"  and I had no answer.  I'm not there yet.