When I was house hunting to find a house in new town I saw one house that had a 1/2 bath on the main floor that had a black sink and toilet with some sort of metallic print wallpaper. I pretended to laugh at it’s dated-ness but secretly I wanted that house and had no plans whatsoever ever to change anything in that glorious bathroom. I think if I ever get to move to a fixer upper I would like to have some over the top bathrooms. My friend has a small guest bath that has an entire mural wall of hand made jewel colored ceramic leaves. Not only would I do that to my own house but I would buy myself a kiln and painstakingly hand make each and every leaf for that house. Because isn’t that kind of thing so much better when you make it yourself than when you pay someone else to do it for you?
Speaking of looking for new houses….. or just houses…. the husband does not recognize this house in new town, our only house, as the house we live in. He keeps asking me why we are here and not in our real house. I don’t even know what to say to him. I’m not sure what house he thinks is our real house. He keeps talking about a circular driveway (I got nothing) and then about how the garage of our real
House is in the back of the house. (Stepford?) But the people we sold the Stepford house to completely redid (RUINED) everything in that house from the floors to the bathrooms to the lighting so even if I brought him there he might not recognize the house. At least he wouldn’t recognize the inside of the house. And also, I don’t want to go to Stepford or see the travesty that was brought upon our beautiful home.
But panic is simmering at a low level inside of me. While being completely apathetic has had a bit of a benefit for him since he doesn’t seem to recognize how diminished his existence has been, this next level of dementia , I can tell is not going to be as gentle. Because he doesn’t understand what is happening and I see him trying to work it out in his head, milling things over and over again, as if eventually I will laugh and bring him to the house with the circular driveway and the garage in the back and it will all have been a big prank and everything will be just fine. Except that’s not real and now I have to find a way to do that dance where his world is even less based in reality than it has been and I have to soothe him while staying steadfast in this reality. It’s a very gas lighting type situation.
Also, the husband lost his wedding ring. I’m pretty upset about it. Mostly because he would be more upset about it if he didn’t have dementia. It was his Dad’s wedding ring and it’s engraved from his mother to his father. And he wore that ring every single day. So, it’s super sad and disappointing. I don’t have any idea when he lost it. I’ll keep an eye out around the house though. It would be fantastic if I could find it.