Wheezy lock down. Day 4. Morning post

I thought and thought about posting on day 2 and day 3 but I spent the entire days locked in the house only venturing as far as my own back yard so sweet pea could do her business.

I’ve been staring at my phone all day just scrolling around American Idol videos or trying to find anything that makes me laugh.

Thoughts so far: I love my mornings to be quiet and private. The husband has a tendency to appear (looking wild eyed and unable to form words) hours before he would normally get out of bed (typically between noon and 1) if he hears me puttering around and that breaks the spell for me. To be honest, it’s just brutally hard to see him at any time. When I look at him I don’t see anything positive. I see a man who struggles to stand. I see a man who can no longer read a subtitle or understand a complicated story plot who defiantly insists he is as mentally strong and capable as he ever was. Just a couple of weeks ago he turned to me and bet me he could take someone in a fight. And yet, if you move too fast near him he falls down from the disorientating nature of it.

I take care of this weak old confused man, but it pains me to see him. I don’t know him. He is a stranger to me and a weight around my neck. The tremendous responsibility of caring for him is something I was not prepared for.

I suppose I wished for him what I have always wished for myself. I hope I leave this earth doing something I love, like dancing or hiking in the woods with my camera. I hope I don’t see it coming. I don’t want to go slowly or painfully. I don’t want to even exist without my full faculties. And I definitely don’t want to spend my last handful of years on earth sitting on a chair staring at a screen and slowly losing the essence of who I am.

I need my quiet time in the morning to fill my reserve that enables me to smile at the needy stranger, scrape up a days worth off meaningless chit chat, and keep rolling.

Sent from my iPhone