Living With the Missing (My journey through my husband’s strokes)

As I sit across from my beloved I am overwhelmed with sadness. Most days I roll with it; the diminishing cognition and eyesight, the unbalanced gait, and the bouts of not recognizing his wife. I have accepted it as just what is and I try to stay tuned in to the lessons I am to learn. I’ve learned so many yet they still render me raw.

A few days ago I tickled him the way I always have. Typically he laughs and playfully begs me to stop. This time, he punched me. It wasn’t hard enough to physically hurt me but it stung me! I was emotionally wrecked. I firmly told him that it wasn’t okay and that I am a person that loves him. I repeated it until I could tell he was attending.

When he met my gaze he apologized. I could tell he was genuinely sorry. I was sorry too. Sorry that he felt violated and needed to defend himself. Sorry that he is further trapped inside the box that seems to be neurologically shrinking. Sorry that he did not recognize the love that has bonded us over the years. Sorry that I am missing him as he sleeps beside me or sits across from me at the table. Sorry that he is using his hands to navigate our space of which he was so familiar. And I if I can be completely honest, I’m sorry for me. I. am sorry that initially I was angry. And then I was hurt. The hurt took hold and refused to release me from its grasp. I left him settled in his favorite chair in front of the television. I sat in my front yard and I cried. I sat for 20 minutes; that’s the longest he can be unattended. Although the hurt continued to linger, duty called and I was back at it. I was forced to forgive myself and I embraced him in a hug. I whispered “I miss you” in his ear. I cannot tell if he misses the we that we were.

I am grateful for every day and every moment I get with him. When loved ones pass away, you miss them with an understanding of permanence. But when loved ones are among the living but forever changed, there is no healing from the missing, the missing is forever.