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I am a GREAT denier (is that a word) someone who can hide from an obvious truth longer than most anyone else. So when I was challenged to think about what I fear, it was tough. I started writing about Chris and felt that I was writing his eulogy. I talked about his life, what he had accomplished against great odds. But that isn't my story to tell. His son, Nathan, and his brother will have to tell that story. My story is about my fear, and that is: what comes next? In the last 3 years Chris has begun having trouble with memory and word finding. We spend so much time together I really didn't realize how often I complete sentences for him when he can't remember the word. If I don't do that he flounders and it is painful to watch. He can't use his cell phone anymore to make or answer calls. A computer is no longer a part of his daily life, he doesn't remember how to use it or what he would use it for. He can walk short distances, around our house, to the car, into the barber shop for his weekly shave ( his hands shake so badly he can't shave himself, so a barber shave is a treat). But to walk down to the street requires sitting on his walker to catch his breath. The bar is set really low. As long as he can get out of bed, stand pivot into a wheel chair we can manage here in our home. Our setup is such that a wheelchair can move around the casita. So I stuff my fear, and concentrate on living just this day. After all, that is all I have and I can live it by paying attention to my attitude and remembering to be grateful for the good days, and friends who sustain me on the journey. --donna
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January 2022
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