Where are we going?

"Where are we going?" I am not sure what Gary is referencing, so I don't answer.

"Ada, where are we going?" 

"Gary, we just came home from the store and its rainy and cold outside so we aren't going anywhere."

"When are we going home?"

It was a Sunday afternoon and we were experiencing our first real rain of the year and it was chilly in Anaheim....chilly means 65 degrees....Gary and I ran out to the store to buy pasta to add to my chicken soup.  He was reading any sign he saw on the road.  At first it is funny, but it can get pretty irritating.

When we came home, we sat in the living room to watch a movie.  I gave us large glasses of water so we could clean up the innards before eating our soup.  He kept asking, "where are we going?"

"Gary, what do you mean?  We just got home! He replied, "what do you mean, we just got home?" 

"Gary, we live here.  What are you talking about?" 

"I just asked WHERE are we going?  Where ARE we going? Where are WE going?  Where are we GOING?" He got increasingly louder and more irritated with each version.

This line of questioning including pleas to go home continued for about three hours.  We had dinner and then retreated back to the living room where it all started.  As soon as we sat down, he picked up the cup of water and looked at the writing on the cup and read from the text on the disposable cup "Where are we going?"  All that time he had been reading the cup just like he does on the highway.

I felt relieved that he was reading and silly that I had not realized it earlier.  However, he still had issues believing that we live in the house that we do. I told him many times before bed that we lived here.  I pointed out all our furniture, the dog and many personal items around the house.  He finally settled down by bedtime and accepted that we were spending the night. 

These events and many others lead me to think about many things.  Did he really like the old rental house that much?  Is he even talking about the last home we lived in....what is he talking about?  He can't answer those questions.

Will there come a time when he has to live somewhere else and he thinks of this place as home?  If those days come, will he remember me?  Will he call out in the night for me? 

Incredible sadness overcomes me in those thoughts.  I know the depths of that sadness so I try to calm my thoughts and search for the positive.  I remember the 28 good years and all our adventures.  I will remember for him and share those stories with his daughter and grandchildren.  Will they ever want to hear them? 

Today the Governor of California signed a bill to make it legal for a person to chose the die if they are terminally ill.  I think this is against God's law.  I don't know intimately what suffering is like, so maybe I would change my mind.

At least Gary is still happy, for the most part.  He is not suffering as he seems to have accepted that he needs a lot of assistance.  I shave him now, help him shower and get dressed.  If he picked out his own clothes, he would resemble an old tourist in Florida who came down for the winter....dark dress socks, tennis shoes, plaid shorts and a polka dot shirt.  For now, that is ok.  Some days I tire from lack of patience and anger.  Other days I am numb.  It is hard to say which days I prefer....knowing that I am alive since emotion runs so strong or numb since it doesn't hurt.  Neither was a choice I made. 

That is the hard part.