She was fourteen when he first saw her. He looked up and watched as she walked by, unaware that her future husband had laid eyes on her. He was at a ball game on a sunny Sunday afternoon, and she was out walking with her best friend. Fate? or God?
There was no turning back for him and from that day he pursued her relentlessly. He fought for her heart as did others, and when the dust settled, he had won. In spite of the ups and downs of their marriage, they remained best friends and companions.
For better or for worse.......including dementia. Including the agony of watching a vibrant, strong woman slip away into oblivion, away from his companionship. Unable to stop the relentless disease, eating away at everything that made her his wife. Unable to do anything except watch helplessly. Alone.
His wife. My mother. And through the tears, agony, and grief, are threads of hope. Someday, she will have a new body and a new mind. What hope! What joy!