"Up and Down . . .

Up and down
I will lead them up and down
I am feared in field and town
Goblin lead them up and down."

    Puck runs around the stage as he says this, leading on all the characters in A Midsummer Night's Dream.  Dementia is like Puck but not so delightful.

    Last week I thought he was dying soon.  He stopped eating solid food except for cookies and bananas.  On Friday he ate only a cookie, a banana, and a half glass of juice.  I was crying much of the day.  And then, Saturday, heee's baaaaack.  He ate a bowl of cereal.  On Sunday he ate a full bowl of popcorn and some fish, sweet potato and spinach my friend LAL-F picked up for me at Zydeco.  Yesterday started well with a full breakfast and he snacked throughout the day but then he didn't eat dinner.  Last Thursday I took him out for a drive and he was very lively with Jennifer.  

I love him so much and still see him in this ancient wreck shuffling around the house.  My grief therapist asked me last week if I'd rehearsed in my head what I would do on the day he died.  I said, "yes...clean his body...stay with him awhile until I'm ready to call Hospice."  

So much crying.  So much laughing.

Here's an irony -- if I hadn't been with him to love him, he may have died some time ago already.  So, in some ways, I myself may be responsible for my own suffering because of my loving him.

stolen from Reddit User u/zBenet