The dense crowd made it difficult to navigate to the elevator. Finally there, we rode down packed in like sardines. The doors opened, and we flooded out into another mass of humanity.
Somehow, I’d let go of Marshall’s hand and couldn’t find him anywhere. I frantically dove through the crowd calling his name.
I awoke from the dream with my heart racing and covered in perspiration. I understood the symbolism immediately. I am losing Marshall and the only chance of finding him, if it is possible, is to penetrate deeply within.
Marshall continues to call me by name, but he’s becoming more difficult to reach. Some days I leave him knowing I could have been any visitor. He rambled from one random thought to another but didn’t care much about my response. It was as if I was peeking into a foggy, porthole. He was in another dimension, one in which I wasn’t invited.
Experiencing a loved one drifting away due to Alzheimer’s disease is death by a thousand cuts. We continuously lose a little of them as they drift away.
Survival requires us to hang on to what we do have with our loved one, cherish the memories, lean on Providence, and enjoy our many other blessings.
(For more information on Alzheimer’s disease, see my Facebook page Navigating Alzheimer’s. My book, Navigating Alzheimer’s. 12 Truths about Caring for Your Loved One, is available from Amazon.com, ACTA Publications, and my website. If you’ve read this book, please, please write a review.)