Friday, March 31, 2006


Peggy continues to sink deeper into her world of Alzheimer's disease.

She seems happy and content but cannot verbalize any longer. She carries on a conversation with herself and I wonder what she is thinking and saying.

Her conversations with herself must be comforting to her because she seems happy.

It still feels strange to be eliminated from her world.

I will talk to her this weekend even though I know that it will be a one way conversation.

She does not have to say anything to me because she doesn't remember me but....

 It would be nice to hear her say my name again. Saying a persons name means that you remember who they are.

I'm glad that I can remember for the both of us when I talk to her. That helps get through the strain of hearing her familiar voice and knowing there is no recognition of who I am.

There is a point in the decline of a loved one with Alzheimer's disease and it is.....

 The point of acceptance.

Acceptance does not come easy and I have fought it for years as I have watched Peggy disappear.

Acceptance is easing into my mind and I know that for Peggy, there will be no cure.  I  have accepted that fact intellectually but still hang on to the tiny glimmer of hope that a cure will come for her.

I am learning to accept that the life that I knew with Peggy is over except for the memories. I am learning to accept that there is nothing that I can do to change that fact.

It is like living in a house for 50 years and spending the last night there. It is walking through the house with all of my belongings and memories of Peggy packed up.

I walk through the empty rooms of my mind where Peggy used to live.

I look around and see the memories of a life time all packed in boxes. I touch each box with tender care, remembering.

I walk out of the house for the last time and close the door but do not lock it. I walk away from the house and pause to look back over my shoulder. I can see a little Peggy and Mary Louise running in the yard. I can see us sitting on the front porch and counting the cars that pass by.

I can see us walking out of the front door in our prom gowns on the arm of our dates.

I can hear us as we lie in bed giggling and sharing secrets. I can also hear us argue when we were mad at one another.

There are so many memories in the house where Peggy and I used to live.

I know that it is time to look away from the house and walk away and I am taking small steps down the walk.

I still look back at the house where we spent 18 years together as we grew up.

 I will never forget what it felt like to live there. And

I will never forget the courage it takes....

To leave.


I Love You Today, Peggy!

Mary Louise



pharmolo said...

One of the most moving entries in your blog. I wish you strength

luvinmythreeboyz said...

I love your journal.. its so real.. not like the others about cleaning and such.. I will cont. to read dear

wendy4145 said...

    It is never easy to accept untimely diseases that space us away from our loved ones. Peggy is your special sister, your forever friend.  I can really picture you and her walking out of the house with your prom datess!  It is ok to look back.  Because no one can take away what happened in yours and Peggys lives together.  Those things happened.  And in reality they still ARE. In fact your history together did occur on this earth.  Those relationships will carry on throughout eternity.  And even still, it is not easy to endure the (space apart) part of it that, which we all have to face with all of our loved ones.  
    I'm glad we get to escape this EARTHLY world some day and leave behind all of the hatefulness, unfairness and hurt that it possesses.
    For now, we can only try our best to cling on to the beautiful times in each day to get us through the not so beautiful times each day. *you are good at that*

lowis6535 said...

That she has been fading away has been so difficult for you ... but, for her it has probably been increasingly peaceful.  I am very sure that her instincts accept you as a positive factor in her life!

magogos said...

Your courage and insight and emotional work is inspiring, and heart wrenching. I a moved to tears every entry. I am glad that at least you can hold the memories for both of you, and I am glad she seems happy. Margo