Without His Words

17th July 2011 Sunday

Sunday morning - we lie in bed and talk. It’s drizzling rain outside. Our two little holidays this week are over. Today is the day to make plans. To face the future. To start doing all those things we said we would -

Put dates in the diaries for visiting friends

Give up coffee and alcohol and sugar

Lose weight

Start exercising again - properly

Research ceramics courses

Read books about the brain - what can we do to halt this disease?

Start taking mineral and vitamin supplements for the brain - fish oil?

Listen to tapes to balance the left and right sides of the brain

I feel heavy and daunted. My husband looks miserable. I ask him,

‘Do you want to do any of this? Do you want to intervene in this disease? Do you think taking supplements and exercising and doing brain exercises will make any difference?’

He says he’s afraid that if he does he’ll lose his new found creativity and intuition. That he doesn’t want to take charge or be in control and it’s better to trust the process....that it’s better now - he’s more present, more himself without his financial advisor identity.

And without his words?

Maybe he is right. And I want him to be himself. But every fibre of my being is screaming out,

‘But what if there IS something you could do to be your wonderful creative and intuitive self AND keep your words too?’

It looks like it’s me who has to give up trying. To surrender. To accept that now he’ll never retain the name of a Crown Prince Squash - however much fish oil he takes.

But he says he will do his stretching exercises in the morning. And not eat flapjacks.