Chapter 61 - Why Do They Ask?

Why do they ask how she is today? When I cannot answer with words that would convey her feelings, her frustration, her pain in any meaningful sense? Last night for instance - I found her sitting on the side of her bed, sobbing, unable to pull-up her pajama pants. How can I explain that? Or this morning as her tremors increased as we sat in the church pew, to the point when we stood about to enter the aisle for communion she shook her head and we sat down again. "You go" she said, but I would not go, leaving her behind. Later, as the final stragglers shuffled to the front of the church, I queried whether she was willing to attempt going now that there was no queue in which to stand stationary. "No, I can't. I will have to turn around to leave the altar rail. I don't trust my balance". And no one noticed our non-participation.

After church she dozed in her chair at home, then decided she needed to lay down. "Wake me for my 2 o'clock pills". I did so; she took her meds after I brought them in, then decided she needed more sleep. I will wake her at 4.

Last Thursday following our PD group meeting we celebrated our 43rd wedding anniversary with lunch at the club. She had a roast, then wanted a "Baileys Tart" (containing the good drop) which was unavailable so I ordered an "Ultimate Tart", and I even had the waitress laughing at my tasteless wisecracks.

Yesterday while I was out for a couple of hours with our village photographic group she assembled an embroidery design to be applied to some towels. Yet to be stitched before next weekend. We are pleased she succeeded. I suspect the mental effort caused her problems today.

But how can I answer those questions? Perhaps they are simply "How is the weather today?" questions, not really needing a meaningful response. Fortunately, blogging is therapeutic.

An hour now until I wake her.