JOAN’S BLOG – FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2011 – A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE

As spouses of Alzheimer patients, we are too familiar with the way in which our love for our husbands and wives changes. As they regress mentally and emotionally, the passion we felt for an adult partner morphs into a parent love for the child they have become. For me, the love transformation has been the most difficult part of this nightmare called Alzheimer’s Disease. Up until now, the saddest moment in our marriage was when I realized that my love for my husband was forever changed by the disease I have come to loathe.  

I say up until now, because this week, I was dealt another blow. I should have been smart enough to see it coming, but even I still harbor a bit of denial. I discovered that my husband’s love for me has also changed. He no longer loves me with passion and adoration. His love is based upon dependence. He loves what I do for him. He depends upon me to think, organize, remember, and explain for him. He depends upon me to monitor his health, remind him to check his glucose levels, tell him what and when to eat depending upon those levels, talk for him at the doctors’ offices, explain movies, television shows, and what other people say that is too complex for him to figure out on his own.

One night this week, I rebelled. I was tired, and did not want to move off of the couch. In an accusatory tone, he said, “You didn’t do my knees today. You need to do them.”  ( He was referring to the bone stimulator machine that I use on his knees every day. It is supposed to promote faster healing for broken bones. It is an ultrasound machine, which involves a strap, gel, and a timer.) I have been telling him since we started with the machine that he could do it himself with a little guidance from me, and on this particular night, I insisted. I politely (honest, I was polite) told him that he needed to get the machine and put the strap on his knee by himself.

Instantly, the petulant two year old personality came out, and whined, “ I CAN’T DO IT. YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING FOR ME ANYMORE!” He crossed his arms, and pouted the rest of the night. In the beginning of this disease, when I was not as wise and battle weary as I am now, I would have tried to reason with him. I give myself credit for at least learning the futility of reasoning with Alzheimer’s. I opened my mouth to protest, immediately shut it, and fumed alone. I also realize that fuming was useless, as it is not his fault. It is the disease. Yes, I know it is the disease, but his childish behavior still makes me angry.

Every night while we are sitting watching television, he tells me he loves me. When we get into bed, he tells me over and over how much he loves me, rubs my arm, holds my hand. Not this particular night. No, he never once told me that he loved me. He did not touch my hand when we went to bed. His love is conditional on what I do for him. Since I did not, in his mind, do anything for him that day, and no longer do anything for him, like an angry child who lashes out at a parent, screaming, “I hate you!”, he withheld his “love”.

I did not think it would hurt as much as it did. After all, I understand that he cannot reason like an adult; that he is emotionally and cognitively regressing; and that he will forget what he said and did much faster than I will stop fuming. But it hurt anyway. It was a harsh realization that as painful as it is for me to know that my love for him has changed, it is just as bad for me to know that his has changed for me. I hate it. I hate all of it. I hate what this disease has done to both of us. I want my old husband and our old love back. I understand I cannot have it, but that does not stop me from missing it and wanting it.

©Copyright 2011 Joan Gershman 
The Alzheimer Spouse LLC
2011 All Rights Reserved
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