8.23.26
We actually had a spattering of rain yesterday. Not a lot, just enough to dampen the decking on the front porch, sound delightful on the roof and fill the air with that amazing smell known as petrichor. As I sat there hoping the grey clouds would grace us with more moisture, my mind went back to when my dearest and I would sit in our deck chairs, just as I was doing, feeling the spatters of raindrops on our faces and hoping for a downpour. Looking up at the sky the tears suddenly filled my eyes as they have done numerous times this week.
The other day while going about my usual morning chores, I found myself with teary eyes and sniffling nose. This was getting tiresome I thought. What on earth was wrong with me this week? The slightest little thing would set my eyes to stinging and before I knew it, tears would be rolling down my cheeks. Then, sitting on the front porch the other morning, sipping my first cup of tea of the day and watching the sky lighten, it came to me. I was approaching yet another First.
I have had so many kindhearted people who have themselves lost a loved one, tell me how hard The First’s are. Indeed, they are hard as I discovered the at tail end of last year. The First Thanksgiving, the First Christmas, then having Darrell’s birthday on New Year’s Eve come and go, all without him by my side. Now another very special day approaches, our 39th wedding anniversary is just around the corner. Yet it is not just that upcoming event which has made this past week so challenging, it is something much deeper. For you see, it was exactly this time three years ago when I discovered my dearest had a serious problem.
Darrell had been having some significant changes in his mood. Enough of a change to warrant a trip to see his doctor who decided he was just depressed and prescribed some anti-depressant tablets. I however, felt there was something deeper going on and tried asking for additional tests but my concern, although noted, was not acted on. So, I began digging into his medical records and discovered something that raised a red flag in my mind. After a sudden loss of hearing in 2021, an MRI was done to determine the cause and then a few months later, yet another MRI was performed after Darrell had a fall while we were in Bend. In reviewing the results again, I noticed some anomalies that showed quite significant changes in Darrell’s blood supply in his brain from one MRI to the other. I mentally kicked myself! I had not asked questions about the results because his doctor at that time had never herself mentioned or attached any significance to them, hence I assumed they must not mean anything significant.
Being determined to get to the cause of the changes in my dearest’s demeanor, I pestered the doctor to do another MRI. Finally she agreed and the result was a swift consultation with a neurologist who diagnosed Darrell as having Lewy Body Dementia. Thus began a journey three years ago I would not wish on anyone, but a journey I would travel again in a heartbeat just to have my dearest back here with me right now.
As I sat that morning sipping my tea it dawned on me why the past few days had been so challenging. It explained why I felt as if I had fallen into a deep hole where the walls would seem to crumble each time I tried to climb out. The guilt I had three years ago when going over those old MRI records and seeing something was not right, was overwhelming. Why had I not questioned the results instead of accepting the doctor saying nothing, so assuming all was well? I felt I had let my dearest down. Would it have made a difference in his diagnosis? No. Would it have changed the outcome as his Lewy progressed? No. Would it have given me more time with him? No. Yet the guilt was still there.
Sometimes it is so hard to look inside oneself, to find the flaws and accept them. But when one does acknowledge and accept them, one can start to forgive oneself which allows one to move on. As I sit here sharing my innermost thoughts with you this morning dear reader, I feel somewhat at peace. Am I still teary eyed? Oh, yes! Will I cry on our anniversary when I wake up on August 31st without my dearest by my side? Yes indeed, I know without a doubt I will. This will be one more First for me, but I shall get through it. My dearest may not be physically with me on that day, but we shall still enter our 40th year together, side by side forever.
