JOAN’S BLOG – MON/TUES, MAY 2/3, 2011 – SHARED MEMORIES DISAPPEARING

Shared memories – one of the joys of a long, loving marriage. To be able to look back on a life together and reminisce about the highlights, the lowlights, triumphs, tragedies, and humor. We are losing that, and it hurts me deeply.

Although at age 62, I don’t consider myself OLD, the years of memories belie that belief. Lately, I have been looking back upon 41 years of my life with Sid. It is frightening to me to think that all we look forward to as young adults– falling in love, marriage, children, fun, adventures, travel, careers – are behind me now. Memories.  Some good. Some bad. But they are now memories rather than future plans.

Ah, but after 41 years together, at least we can reminisce about our times together. Laugh, cry, and talk together about all we have shared. Right? Unfortunately, Alzheimer’s Disease is robbing us of even conversing about the past. That fact hit me in the heart this weekend. It was so unexpected.

Sid and I were talking about the latest addition to our family – a great nephew, born last week. My sister’s sons are procreating at a fast clip. We have a 2 year old great niece; a new great nephew, and another great niece/nephew is due in October. I am still so shocked at what Sid said, I can barely write it. He told me that he had been thinking about our son and wondering why we only had one. I was dumbstruck. Having one child was a well thought out, carefully discussed mutual decision.

My husband was a workaholic. He had single minded tunnel vision when it came to his work. He felt it was his job to provide for the family; his ONLY job. Thus, he never participated in any part of child rearing. He never changed a diaper; never gave a bottle; never “spelled” me when our darling baby kept me up for 23 hours at a time. According to him – that was not his job. His job was to work. After 18 months of that, I finally blew up. The law was laid down to him. He was going to help me raise his son. Since he had never heard me use the type of language I employed to get my point across, he knew I was serious, and he finally got the idea that fathers in the 1970’s were participatory, as opposed to fathers in the 1940’s, as his had been. He did the best he could after that little incident.

When it came time to decide on another child, we discussed it. I said that my maternal instinct was satisfied with one, but I would consider having another if he would be a full participant in the child rearing, feeding, changing, and even some sleep loss that was involved. He thought about it very carefully, said he would like another child, but he knew he did not want to participate as fully as needed. The issue was settled. We lived happily with our one; we lived happily with each other. (For others to agree or disagree; approve or disapprove is irrelevant. The decision was ours to make, and we were comfortable with it.)

For him to have completely forgotten one of the most important decisions of our marriage was jaw dropping to me. I know I say that every time he loses another memory that I consider sacred, but I cannot help it. Whenever it occurs, it is as if, because he cannot share our memories, a piece of our life together has disappeared; as if that part of my life with him never happened. It feels akin to losing 41 years of my life. I have no other way to describe it.

This is just the latest in a long line of Alzheimer losses, but to me, it is huge. If he can forget why we only have one child, he can forget our entire life together. Yes, I know that I will remember, but shared memories are a blessing of marriage. To lose them…………….a tragedy.

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