Some Past, Some Present, and Some New Future

My last post was March 12^th. On that day and on the 9^th, I hinted at complications in my life that I was not able to write about at that time and that, at some point, I would be back. Today is the time.

Wut Javia doesn’t have many blog followers. Most are family. Though a few family members don’t know the details surrounding Pam’s PD/Dementia disease, I think all now know that Pam died on May 12^th of this year after a multi-year battle with physical and mental disability. It was my honor and labor of love to be Pam’s caregiver throughout this time, until the end. But the last year was by far the most challenging, heartbreaking, frustrating, and sad.

I kept a journal over the past couple years. Entries are sporadic due to emotional distress or, more often due to exhaustion at the end of the day. I have hundreds of texts and emails to and from family and friends describing general and specific challenges with related conclusions and emotional outpouring. I also have a complete record of my interactions with Pam’s neurologist on her behalf. These describe ongoing and ever evolving symptoms, potential causes, and recommended and prescribed treatments. In time I hope to review and incorporate all of this information into a collective document to be shared either here on the blog or in other written forms. Who knows, some of it may be helpful to others who take the twisted, dark journey of slow decline and death, and those who love them and care for them as they do.

I began a new journal on July 28^th. It truly is a new beginning. Nothing is as it was. I think I am still me, but even that comes into question in this world without my love, my wife. One of the most beautiful people anyone could ever meet. And you don’t have to take my word for that! I am including that journal entry, along with one I wrote yesterday before writing this opening. To tie the past with the present, and into the future. Of the future I only know that I told Pam I’d be okay. That I would live and go on living. To date this commitment has meant much retrospection, introspection, excruciating emotional pain, hours of crying, and talking with family and friends who have helped me through some of the darkest hours of my life. So far the future consists of reading, playing my music, traveling, and going on with some semblance of daily routine; eating, sleeping, even watching some TV. Now, I hope, it includes writing about my experiences; past, present, and on into the future.

Though I don’t know yet how this blog will now evolve, I hope it continues to reflect who I am and what I am doing. Hopefully, it will be interesting and maybe even helpful to others.

July 28, 2022

So far, today’s two take-aways are What hurts and how much? and I’m trying to figure out how to live alone.

I hurt intensely when I look at Pam’s picture(s) and recall the depth of my love for her and how much I miss her. Sometimes I look and smile. She’s smiling in every one. But the pain builds inside of me. I can feel the weight of it. Looking at Pam’s picture at those moments, the hurt surfaces and the flood gates open. I have also been noticing that my legs start moving when my emotions are on edge. I start vigorously rocking in the chair, or shake my legs up and down, flexing my toes and raising my heals, just like Pam used to do when she was uneasy. Somehow, realizing why I am doing it is comforting. Like it’s just part of how I’m dealing with losing Pam.

I’m trying to figure out how to live alone. I’ve recognized this for a while and have even mentioned it to my sister(s) Jan and/or Cheryl. Discounting a brief time during and after my divorce, I hadn’t been alone. Okay, living with Gayle was close, but there were people in the house. And even when I lived alone after the divorce, Pam and I began dating shortly after. I had my own place, as did she. But I was less alone than in my marriage! But now I am alone. And one of the reasons I chose to write today rather than call Jan (although I still might) is to document these thoughts rather than texting or talking. And just maybe it’s part of my learning to be alone.

August 2, 2022

Today began with me thinking about what I was doing, driving around looking at guitars, keyboards, and recording equipment. What would we be doing if Pam was alive and healthy. The answer came quickly. Pam would be stamping while I play my guitar or fuss with one project or another around the house.

This morning I got a “Value Pack” in the mail with various useless advertising inserts – except one. Pam and I drove to a farm in the middle of nowhere that had been renovated and converted into a vineyard and winery, Buchanan House Winery. We were on one of our outings and saw the sign on a county road so we just drove there. The flier was a reminder that they offer free wine tastings. Just stop in. I’m going to do that sometime in the near future. If Pam were alive and healthy, these are the things we would be doing. We enjoyed living together, piddling around the house. We enjoyed each other. We enjoyed our jaunts around Iowa to places we’d like to eat or see. But all of that ended with Pam’s progressing disease. PD/Dementia took her life too soon. It took our life together away even before that. It robbed us of our future and completely altered the trajectory of mine – alone.