Just opened one of those little Dove chocolate candies. I didn’t know they had a saying on the inside of the wrapper. To my surprise, it said, “Sometimes breaking the rules is more fun.” WELL, DUH!! I never have been a strict rule follower. I never was a rebel either. I guess I was just one of those “march to my own drummer” types. (I, I, I....it’s all about ME, ya know.) My drummer never led me into dark places or wild places and I thank God for that. Social rules never meant much to me, either. Couldn’t stand fraternities or sororieties or any organization that says “you’re not good enough to be with us”. “Come one, come all" is more my motto. (as long as your nice.) Wearing white after Labor Day seemed fine to me; and what’s wrong with sweats and flip flops at the grocery store? Who are the social police anyway? And if I want to use my sterling silver every day, along side of my pottery, I do. Why should I keep it locked up in a box? Never could figure that out.
Don’t know why I’m talking about these things. I suppose it’s because Alzheimer World has no social norms. I had to get over Jerry eating with his fingers. What’s wrong with fingers anyway. The cavemen did it. Course, maybe that’s why they created the fork...it got a little messy. Course, sometimes I have a problem with his eating with a knife. That’s obvious. Funny how Jerry cannot fix himself a sandwich, pour himself anything to drink, put tooth paste on his toothbrush, shave, button his shirt, put on his underwear....but MAN...all I have to say is "ICE CREAM" and he pops up out of his chair, gets a spoon and starts scooping. Frankly, I think it’s all an act. He’s really perfectly fine and just wants me to wait on him hand and foot. MMMMM...not quite.
I think I’ve reached a new stage of acceptance. NO EXPECTATIONS. Up until a couple of months ago, I think was still engaging Jerry like he was still my partner, companion, best friend, and so on. Therefore, I was still emotionally attached and disappointed and depressed. I couldn’t get a response from him. During the last few months, however, I think I’ve gone through some kind of labor pains of grief. "Stop! I can’t handle it! When will it end?" Now, I think I’ve reached a new phase in the grief. While I still adore Jerry and consider him my buddy, forever, I think I am able to separate my emotions and consider him like a patient. My patient. My special patient. My adorable and beloved patient. It’s a good thing. Progress. I’m in a better place which makes Jerry in a better place.
Now...I think I’m going to get another Dove chocolate and read another wrapper.