Waiting for the New Normal

It’s been since Friday that I’ve seen  Jerry.  Let see.  That’s one, two, three, four days.  In the past, a couple of days meant nothing because I knew he was on a business trip and would soon be coming home.  This time he’s not.  I don’t like it.  I don’t like it at all. Saturday morning, Antoinette, the nurse called and said Jerry was doing just fine.  He had a good breakfast and was watching TV in the activity room.   That gave me the relief I needed to start the day.  I think we were all in a state of  “don’t know what to call it”.  The girls and I sat on the sofa in our pajamas until 4:00 in the afternoon.  We sat in stupid chatter, then silence, then stupid chatter, then silence.  Mark walked the beach with the dog and slept.  It wasn’t until we realized we had been invited to a friend’s house that we decided we’d better get up and take a shower.

It’s funny how the mind works.  Someone asked, “Have you called out to Jerry, yet?”  As a matter of fact, I have.  We were all in the kitchen fixing something to drink, when Mark headed down stairs.  Without realizing it, I said, “Jerry.  Would you fix Amanda something to drink?”  I caught myself as everyone turned and looked.  I didn’t talk ABOUT him, I talked TO him.  I’ve  also have found myself having memories of when he was healthy.  Not when he was sick.  The have flashbacks of how handsome he was whenever we would go out to a fine dining restaurant  and what a statement he made as he’d walk across the room in his yellow silk sports coat and blue striped tie.

I called Homeplace today to see how he was doing.  He was beginning to ask where I was.  He asked nurse Gerry, “Where’s my wife?”  Gerry’d say, “Oh.  She’s at home cleaning the house.  She’ll be here in a little while.”  That seemed to be all that was  needed to satisfy him.  Then, he’d continue to walk on.  As for me, I am terribly afraid to see him for the first time.  I’m waiting until next Monday.  I’m afraid if I go now, it will open the “sad" wounds all over again.    I know I’ll want to bring him home.  But I won’t be able to.

It will take a while for us both to get adjusted but that there will still be good times, just in a different way.   But for now, I’ve been advised to keep the kleenex handy while I wait for the new normal.