Went over to the Comox Valley Seniors Village henceforth known as CVSV, where the message said there was a room for Don.
Had the grinding familar tour that every commercial place does and I am gut wrenching familiar with them from my mom and dad – and no matter whether the the place was good or bad- it did not feel open and welcoming to me. Nonetheless I have to admit the people seemed mostly to be smiling, which is quite an achievement on a dementia ward.
So…this is the only option now. Wait longer and wind up in another place the same, but further away.
I said yes, went out to the car and bawled, got a hug from my friends at the post office, and somehow got home, face red and puffy, eyes leaking memories all the way.
There were cheerful and supportive messages from my friends but more important, from that small circle of sisters n my caregivers group. They said it wasn’t all that bad…
I trust these sisters who know more about the guts of me, the ins and outs, than anyone else.
Later I understood that my reaction, certainly the depth of it, was one more indicator that I was burned right out, no resilience, no moderation only flight or fight, no sense of balancing reality.
My darling deserves better, and if it doesn’t work for him, I can’t pretend it works for me.