In Hardship, Choose Bewilderment Over Cleverness

I never felt clever, and I'm not sure I've ever felt so bewildered as I am today due to the loss of my husband's well-being. A battle with Alzheimer Disease has diminished him greatly, and he was one always wise. He always knew the right way to think and act. He was a rock, and it's hard to live without him in totality. The lesson I derive is to try to emulate the way I saw him maneuver through life's difficulties. If bewilderment means feeling lost, weakened, and bereft, then I am bewildered, but I am trying my best to do the right things. When we have lost our North Star, difficulties are not easy to navigate.

Dear Pat, Your grief and loss went straight to my heart. It's a special kind of heartbreak when someone you love has Alzheimer's because you keep losing pieces of them. I lost my father to Alzheimers, which isn't the same as losing a husband, but it gives me an inkling. It was the small things that got me through the days: the first sip of tea in the morning, the cat curled up in a basket of clean laundry, the moon shining through the cherry trees when they were in full bloom. Kind people told me to remember my father as he was, but I also want to remember him as he was then. And what I remember is love. The love of his friends, the love of his caregivers, the love between us. Even when he didn't know who I was, he knew I was someone who loved him. Emulating the way your husband maneuvered through life's difficulties not only honours him, it also means you haven't lost your North star. He is still helping to guide you. Sending you much love, Susan