And their theraputic value
Boy oh boy, I've missed you.
Forgive me if you feel I've 'ghosted' you. Sometimes us humans need time for inward solace and I'm hopeful no one is offended by that need. Never mind. We're together now.
I have a lot to tell you, I don't know what to say, I don't know how to say it. And I'm uncertain how much to say.
The disease taking over my husband's brain is emotionally painful for me and our family. There are bright spots, and yes, I'm very much aware of them.
Strangely, it's easier to pay attention to and hold onto the good moments when they're disappearing.
So much of this is really really sorrowful.
It's also oddly inspiring all at once. Some of the most beautiful songs reflect trauma experienced in order to bring written lyrics to life. I'm grateful for ways to express the sorrow I'm feeling.
About my artwork... I'm not in the studio much, and not creating new work. I'm documenting ideas for projects in the future. Apart from a few custom Now and Then Images that I can do in my first floor office, working in the studio is tough. I remember telling you last year that I was grateful I could hear my husband's footsteps above me when I was working on the lower level. I knew when he was on the move and likely confused about what to do or where I was. Now, I can't leave him alone. He's unsteady, and when his six foot, two hundred and fifteen-ish pounds tries to ambulate on his own, he's high risk for a fall. (we're on a first name basis with the local fire department responders, unfortunately). I'm usually exhausted by day's end so working at night after I've put him to bed isn't feasible.
About the words... I am writing. Phrases and thoughts come into my head that help define both the emotions I'm feeling, and the details of physically caring for my man. As long as I can capture the snippets, I'm able to expand on the thought and construct in-depth paragraphs when I'm alone with my thoughts.
There's no end to what I could write about. Dementia causes Bill to continually say and do some pretty hilarious things (perhaps some day I'll tell you about all of the sister-wives I currently have, and the one he's fixated on now who's as old as he is in his mind right now - about twenty eight).
I could write about the absurdity of what this disease is doing to his once eloquent, smooth, rich voice, how it affects his movements, his thoughts, and cognition.
"Diminishing Poems" are pouring out of me and I shared some with a friend. She emailed, "It must be so painful to release these words, these truths on the page." I replied, "There's a bit of numbness getting the words down, actually. I have a feeling that when I reflect on what I've written after all this is done and Bill's gone from this world, it will be more painful. I'm kind of on autopilot now, writing a biography vs an autobiography".
"I'm the conduit for the words,
but not quite feeling them
at their depth..."
I've shared a few of these poems here with you. (You can listen to me reading them if you're so inclined).
Who knows where this will lead me but I feel good about getting the words down at least. It's my current creative outlet.
And I'm so glad you're here with me.
With gratitude,
PS Canadian singer | songwriter, Sarah McLachlan's song, Hold On expresses what's on my heart. God and I are keeping in touch quite a bit, though. Listen to a live performance of Sarah singing it here.
“Faith and perseverance is the key to overcoming obstacles. ”
~ Lorna Jackie Wilson
