Never Truly Alone, Walking It With Him

May13

I live in a Catholic world. It is not an easy path to follow at all. In truth, it can be quite hard. I have friends from many different walks of life. I love my friends who live in the secular world, even if I do not always approve of their choices. Regardless, I still love them unconditionally. I wish them well and want the best for them, even the ones who have hurt me. I try never to hurt anyone, even when I disagree with them. Admittedly, I have foundered in that area lately and feel horrible. All I can do is apologize.

Catholicism is integrated into my daily life. I fail terribly at times. I strive to honor God in how I live, but being human, temptations can easily pull me off that narrow path. My chosen way of life is strict in many ways, yet when I stay on that path, I find peace. It is usually when I veer away from it that I find confusion, sadness, and misery within myself. That confusion, sadness, and misery can easily affect others as well. I have to remind myself of this daily. Everything I do and say has consequences, and those consequences matter to me and to the people I love.

For me, that faith also shaped my understanding of marriage. There was trust, loyalty, and commitment between Dave and me. That does exist outside the Catholic faith too, of course, because goodness exists in many people regardless of religion. Still, I believe my faith gave our marriage structure, accountability, and purpose. In a world that often feels chaotic and uncertain, that stability mattered deeply to me. Dave and I knew where we stood with one another.

I struggle to understand modern relationships sometimes. So much of the world now feels temporary and disposable. People move in and out of each other’s lives quickly, often leaving hurt behind them. Perhaps they are searching for happiness, but I sometimes wonder if they are truly finding it. Yes, there are miserable married Catholics. I feel very blessed to have shared life with a man such as Dave. He wasn’t passionate, but he loved me, and that matters more than anything. I’ve had passion. It is absolutely marvelous, but passion itself isn’t enough. Love, however, is.

I miss the stability our marriage brought. I miss the protection I had. I don’t know if I will ever encounter it again. I have to find a way to hold that stability within myself now that my Dave is gone. It will take time, I know. Somehow, I will find it.

Ultimately, Catholicism gives me direction, meaning, continued spiritual growth, and above all, peace—when I stay on the path I believe I am meant to follow. I am learning how to continue, even while falling occasionally, and with God’s grace, standing back up, brushing myself off, and carrying on this journey—never truly alone, but walking it with Him.

When Everything Becomes Loss

May12

Loss is a dark shadow that follows everyone. Unfortunately, some people experience it more often than others. Most loss comes with grief that never fully lets up. It stays every single day, reminding us of what we lost. Sometimes it is death, divorce, a lover, a friend, financial loss, or even the loss of passion. The list can go on.

I’ve experienced the loss of everything I listed. These losses domino into more losses — future plans, dreams, and the life you thought you would have. Unfortunately, it is part of life. Life equals death. Death equals loss. It all equates to life — a never-ending process of grieving that becomes part of living itself.

Today I slept. Sleep makes loss more bearable. I don’t have to think. And when I do have to think, at least I can write. Writing seems to help. It’s a release for me.

Life seems surreal, especially since the death of my husband and now the loss of a recent friendship too. My brain is spinning. It analyzes everything. Even when I think I’m not thinking, my subconscious is. Several days later my brain will suddenly spit something out I hadn’t consciously been thinking about, and out it comes. It can be maddening.

My companions, Starfire and Kaya, are aging rapidly. Both are 13 years old. Deep in my heart, I know they too will be gone soon enough. I dread the day they leave me. I think perhaps I’ll get another dog and a kitty for companionship, but then I’m just setting myself up for more loss. I’m beginning to feel like it might be safer not to open myself up so freely again. I’d rather build a wall around myself — minus the drawbridge and moat — than let myself love too deeply again, because when I love, I give my heart 100%. And when they are gone, it feels like a piece of it goes with them.

I thought about hopping on a plane today and just leaving for a while. Going somewhere no one knows me. A different environment. Thanks to the cost of fuel right now, that’s out of the question. I guess that can equate to another loss.

So I’ve come to the conclusion, for now, that life is death — the death of family, lovers, friendships, happy futures, and dreams, and how we deal with them. It feels like everything meaningful eventually becomes something I have to let go of, and I have to learn to live with it. Loss never ends, and neither does learning. I find myself in a place where I feel more guarded with my heart, holding tightly to what I already have.

I’ll Walk Alone

Apr30

I’m trusting God in this new life I didn’t ask for. I’ve always trusted Him. He has taken care of me where man has failed. This world He placed me in is rough, but it is beautiful too. I know He will protect me, even now that my earthly protector is gone.

I miss my Dave so much. I dreamed about him all night. In the dream, I was trying to protect him. It was chaotic, and his Alzheimer’s was in full force.

He insisted on driving and pulled into a parking lot with a sign that clearly read, “Do not enter—Explosives.” He went anyway. A crew was there preparing to take down a building, and they started yelling. They stood in front of the vehicle until he finally stopped.

Then they yanked him out roughly.

I tried to explain—he has Alzheimer’s. Please, stop manhandling him.

I realize this dream reminded me why God put me here on this earth—to give birth to my extraordinary children and to take care of Dave. That was my purpose. That was my job. His purpose was to care for the kids and me. He did a good job of it too. We were meant to care and love one another!

Now that job is over. I have to figure out what the meaning of my existence is now.

I rather doubt God wants me to remarry. I’ll never find another Dave.

Dave may not have been perfect—neither was I—but he was the most romantic, cuddly man. He would snuggle me to his chest so deeply, and I miss it. I miss him holding my hand wherever we went. We did everything together. We were joined at the hip.

He was proud to have me as his woman, and he showed it 100% before the disease. He truly loved me. Out of the blue he would start singing to me, or grab me by the waist and we’d slow dance together in the living room.

I will always love him.

Even at the end, he saw me sobbing after he collapsed. The tangles were cutting off his brain signals to his legs—he could no longer walk. But he called me over and pulled me into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me as I cried.

I’m crying as I write this. I miss him. I’ll never find another man like Dave.

Dave and I also supported one another in our faith. We both tried to help each other get to heaven. He used to watch my cursing—laughing—and would shake his finger at me when I let loose about something.

We prayed together at night and said the Rosary in the summer out on our swing. I will miss that so much.

While a man doesn’t have to be Catholic, he would have to be willing to live and respect that part of my life. At this stage, I also recognize that many men in their 60s and up are not likely to change their ways.

I also realize that being 65 years old limits my options. The only reason some men would be interested in me at this point is to have someone care for them in old age.

I’ve already been approached. No thanks. I don’t care who it is—Dave wasn’t even dead two weeks. It felt insensitive and cruel. There’s no excuse for that.

I’m not an object to be used.

I have a right to how I feel, and that should be respected. If his friends don’t like it, they can bugger off too.

They are quite lucky I have a forgiving heart.

So what do I do with my life?

I have desires, but I’m limited. I can’t help people with Alzheimer’s anymore—I lived through Alzheimer’s hell.

I am doing my volunteer work at the church again, and I love that. Next school year I’ll be making PB&Js for school kids at the church. I’m willing to sit with terminally ill people until their last breath.

But I want more. I have wanderlust. I want to go overseas and help those who are struggling, to be of use somewhere far from here. I crave a change of environment. I could come home for a bit, then go back again.

But that won’t happen because of commitments here. So for now, I’m waiting to see what God has in store for me. I’m sure it is something good.

I’ve always had faith in Him. He will take care of me. I am blessed. I have my grown children and my dogs. With God’s help, I am willing to walk alone.

He’s in God’s Hands

Apr29

I’ve been doing really well lately. Today, however, was a bit harder. I woke up sad and burdened with a confused and heavy heart. My husband isn’t here, of course. His death came on January 7, 2026.

The only times we were ever separated overnight were when I had to travel for work, or when I went on the occasional overnight trip with my daughter. So today, I decided to go for a two-mile walk. I took in God’s handiwork, created for all of us to enjoy and embrace if we choose. I took many photos, and as a result, my two-mile walk took almost three hours because I kept stopping often.

The sun felt so good on my bare head, warming me from the inside out. I’ve missed the sun. Our winters are so long, and this one seemed longer and darker than ever. I longed—and still long—to see flowers again.

The waterfowl have arrived, and more are still arriving. I took some lovely photos at Creamer’s Field. I intend to return this Friday and enjoy the exciting noise and cries of our long-awaited annual visitors.

hope to wake up early enough to attend Mass tomorrow. With the warmer weather, I hope to get into the habit of daily Mass. I always feel comforted and at peace in His presence in the sanctuary. I don’t know what I would do without Him.

I need to start spreading my wings again and getting out to enjoy the life God has graciously given me. I love my husband deeply, and I have to remind myself not to feel guilty for learning how to live again. Granted, it still feels strange to wake up and not have something immediate to do for someone other than myself. It feels awkward.

Thankfully, I have my dogs. They get me up and give me motivation.

I’m going to blog my memories and anything else that comes to mind. Much of it will be memories of caring for my Dave—not in chronological order.

The last four months were so hard. Before that, life with Alzheimer’s was becoming harder day by day. Poor Dave—he didn’t understand and was so confused. By the end, he thought I was his mama or his sweetie.

Gads I miss that man of mine. I know he is okay. He’s in God’s hands.

Goodnight,

kj

Without You

Apr29

You still tear at my heart,
still tug at its strings—
but you aren’t here.

Your death came suddenly,
too fast
those last four months
you were gone in the blink of an eye.

So what do I do now?
I no longer know how to think without you.
I only know this—
I am alone.

Alone without you.

I am a mass of confusion,
viewing the empty spaces you left behind.
Some days I think
I cannot live without you.

I miss your twinkling eyes,
your mischievous smile
I miss your strong loving arms around me,
reassuring me all is well and safe—
as if everything would be all right.

You made my heart swell.
Your love was the kind I could lean on,
and it was all mine!

And now—
I am a mass of confusion without you.

Regardless, one truth remains,

I still love you.

Balancing Love, Faith, and Caregiving in the World of Dementia

Feb3

Yesterday, my daughter and I created a memory that will forever hold a special place in our hearts. After carefully measuring twice, we ordered her beautiful wedding gown. Then came the exciting part: finding the perfect pair of shoes to match! With so many stunning options to choose from, she finally discovered ‘The One’ – an absolutely gorgeous stiletto sandal. It was quite a surprise, considering her usually conservative style, but I couldn’t be happier and more excited for her.

The 4-inch heels will certainly require some practice, as she rarely wears anything higher than a sensible heel. But I’m sure she’ll rock them on her special day! Even though the dress and heels were quite inexpensive, they are simply stunning. I would have gladly spent more, but she loves the dress, and that’s what matters most.

She truly deserves the best, but being the wise woman she is, she’s opting for a conservative wedding and reception, preferring to invest in house upgrades instead.

Her dad was with us the whole time, laughing along as we browsed and letting out ewwws and awwws together. But when he saw the shoes she chose, his jaw dropped in surprise! It was really special to see him enjoy the planning process as much as we were. Unfortunately, his dementia is progressing, and it’s hard not to worry about the future. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be able to walk her down the aisle when the big day arrives. It’s always been a dream he’s had. No matter what happens, I know everything will be okay. I just want her special day to be perfect and filled with love.

I’m excited to see them tie the knot in a beautiful Catholic sacramental wedding, as this is an important part of their faith and values.

My beloved’s dementia is progressing, and it’s been challenging for both of us. Recently, he caught a nasty stomach bug that was particularly difficult for him to handle. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time. It’s heartbreaking to see him struggle with tasks that used to come so easily. He tried his best to clean up, but ultimately let me help him. As a mother, dealing with bodily messes doesn’t faze me, but I know it can be humiliating and traumatizing for him.

Despite his declining memory, he still has some problem-solving skills and a strong desire to contribute. Even with a bad hip, he managed to throw a bag of pellets on a shovel and dragged it into the house. I was so proud of him and even clapped at his accomplishment! It was quite a surprise because he usually shook his head when he saw me using a sled, wheelbarrow, or shovel to move heavy things.

He continues to experience delusions and hallucinations. Just the other day, he told me he had a friendly spider sitting on his lap, visiting with him. I played along, thankful that it was a friendly spider rather than a terrifying one. His delusions often involve scenes from the likes of Tom Clancy novels, which can be quite amusing at times.

His memory issues are also progressing. He sometimes forgets who our dogs, Kaya and Starfire, are, referring to them as ‘hes’ instead of ‘shes’ and asking if we can keep them since they are such nice dogs. 🙂 On one occasion, he needed help putting on their collars as he’d forgotten how to connect them.

One key element of caregiving is to never shame the person for any issues they may face, including bodily accidents. As a caregiver, it’s important to take these incidents in stride and reassure the person that accidents happen to everyone. By doing so, you can help them feel less embarrassed and more comfortable with the care they’re receiving. Above all, the person should feel safe and secure. Imagine yourself in their position—how would you want to be treated when needing help with your physical needs?

I love my husband. Yes, as a couple we have our ups and downs, but we always get through it. We will get through his dementia ordeal as well. I had an eye opener one day when watching a training video.It made me realize that he is to receive pallative care as his brain disease is terminal. It’s now my responsibility to ensure he feels safe, loved, and as happy as possible until the very end. This level of care and comfort is something I believe he wouldn’t receive in any facility.It is up to me to ensure he feels safe, loved, and happy as he can be to the very end.

Bye for now, Kelly

Navigating the Unpredictable: Caregiving through Sickness, Dementia, and Chocolate Mishaps

Jan17

I’m tired. Yesterday was stressful from the moment I rose from my warm bed. I found Kaya, my dog sick. She would not eat, and she normally eats anything and everything. I have to keep an eye on her. I also had to get Dave ready for his appointment with the orthopedic clinic. So I was worrying over Kaya, Dave is hovering over Kaya instead of getting ready, I’m urging him to eat his breakfast, and so on. I get him out the door and loaded in the car. A bit later he lowers the window. Why? I don’t know but it is freezing out there and he can’t roll it back up. The window is stuck due to the cold freezing temps. He knew I was furious and told me it rolled itself down. Just like a little kid. Dementia is hell. I tell you! I pulled over at the silver bullet (a diner), called his doctor to explain the situation and cancelled his appointment. We could not drive to Fairbanks with the window down. It was weird. The minute that appointment was cancelled, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders immediately. I felt it.

When we got home, I rescheduled his appointment which will now be a month away, and called the vet about Kaya. They got her in at 2:00pm. What a relief. No emergency charge this time. It still cost me $400! Due to her age and kidney issues, I was scared it was her kidneys shutting down. As it turns out, her liver enzymes were up due to something she shouldn’t have eaten. I suspect my husband, who has dementia, gave her chocolate. Today, she is back to normal. She is back to mooching and not walking about huddled and miserable. I hid his chocolate!! He hasn’t even missed it and won’t. He did want to know when he was going to see the doctor again.

Dave’s hip is bone on bone bless his heart. He was bellering for days that he was in horrific pain. The doctor suggested an NSAID ointment to rub on to tie him over until he can get his steroid shot. Now he tells me it doesn’t hurt and he doesn’t need the ointment, but still needs to see the doctor for the shot! Aargh! Dementia makes absolutely no sense. My eye is ticking once again. ~sigh~

Today was spent scheduling upcoming appointments and rescheduling any that were overlapping. I discovered the AI app, Gemini on my cell phone. It can dial the phone and add appointments and reminders. It will make my life a whole lot easier. It’s sweet indeed!!

God bless the world!

Mass is My Respite

Dec29

As a 24/7 caregiver, attending Mass is a much-needed source of respite and rejuvenation for me. Amidst the constant demands of caregiving, being in Jesus’s presence allows me to pause, reflect, and recharge. The serenity and spiritual nourishment I find in Mass give me the strength and comfort to face the challenges of the coming week.

To this day, I still mourn the loss of my regular connection to His presence through my volunteer work in the sanctuary. The absence of that spiritual nourishment felt like a form of withdrawal, as being in His presence had become an addiction of sorts. The sanctuary was truly a place of refuge and solace for me, and adjusting to life without it has been a difficult journey.

As I grapple with accepting this change, I find myself searching for a way to experience His presence in the same profound way I did within the walls of the church. I yearn to bring the Eucharist home, but that is not a possibility.

So, I am left wondering how I can forge that deep connection with God once more. I am feeling empty and a bit lost. I am feeling a lot of frustration and sadness.

As I am writing, I realize I am mourning several big losses in my life. I miss my husband. Granted he is here physically, but he is so different. Dementia has changed him. I never know what I’m going to get from one day to the next.

Side note: For my non-Catholic readers, I know our beliefs might differ. Just keep in mind that my perspective on faith and Mass is deeply rooted in my personal experiences, and it’s something that really helps me navigate life. I respect your beliefs, and I hope you can respect mine too.

God bless

When Life Gives You Icy Highways and Slothy Customer Service: A Cray-Cray Day Unplugged! 🤪❄️🦥

Dec18

Instead of rambling in paragraphs, let me just share the highlights with you, bullet-style:

💡 I woke to find all the lights on in the house – thanks, Dave! 🙈

🥶 Discovered the draft snake removed from the door – brrr, that cold draft was not a nice surprise! 🐍

🐶 Handed out meds to Dave and the dogs and made them all breakfast – the usual morning routine. 💊

😑 Decided to turn off the pellet stove for a good cleaning – big mistake. 🔥

💨🔥 The vacuum I used to clean the pellet stove decided to blow ashes through its exhaust, turning the room into a smoky haze. So, I had to drag out another vacuum to do the job, all while dealing with the smoky atmosphere in the room.

📞 One of the exhaust flaps fell off, and after an hour of struggling (including googling, YouTubing, and manual-checking), I gave up and called Woodway. 🤬

🦥 The guy who answered was about as helpful as a sleepy sloth, telling me to “check the manual” – ugh, not what I wanted to hear! 😒

📖 A few sharp words later, he sent me a photo and another manual – but guess what? Still no help. 🙅️

🔧 Another hour of fiddling later, I finally managed to reconnect the exhaust flap.

🍳 By the time I was done with all of that along with zero consumption of coffee, it was time for lunch. I hadn’t eaten, so I scrambled eggs for my Dave and me.

💦 I filtered water, got more hot water going in the kettle, and then sat down to eat

📧 While eating, I write an email to the dealer of the pellet stove letting them know the issue with their representative and the poor pellet stove design.

🐕 Lo and behold Dave is barking with the dogs, stirring them up. Starfire wants my food.

💻 Starfire hit my laptop, and it fell to the floor. Wifi modem is disconnected. Thanks, Starfire!

🔩 I decided to open the back of my laptop thinking I could fix it.

💡 I find there is zero light. I think Dave disconnected the electric cord so I trace it to find it is still connected.

💡 I discovered Dave had removed the lightbulbs in the overhead lighting and forgot to replace them. That’s typical for someone with dementia.

💡 I replace the lighting.

🔩 Lo and behold I manage to get the back off of my laptop only to find I can’t locate the loose modem. (I’m so stupid these days)

💼 I get frustrated and stick the laptop and screws into a bag to take to the computer repair shop.

🚙 I go out to start the rig but I find it unplugged. I plug it in and brush 6 inches of snow off of it.

❄️ I couldn’t get into the rig via the driver’s door (the door was frozen shut) so I went in through the passenger door. It’s bloody cold outside too!

🚙 I start the rig. Hooray it started!!

🐶 When I get back in, my Dave wants to know where the dog collars are. I tell him they are around the dogs’ necks.

🚙 We finally get the dogs loaded into the rig (poor Kaya got her foot caught in the door) and off we go. This time I could access the driver’s side. (Kaya is okay, poor girl)

❄️ The highways were pure ice. Highways of ice! I’m not kidding. We make it to town playing, “where is my lane” and drop off the computer only to find out they haven’t a cord for my laptop. AARGH

🌞 I will drop the cord off tomorrow – Maybe

📑 In the meantime, while sitting in the car waiting, my Dave found my PT referral and leg compressor brochure he had lost the other day

🚙 Dave sulks all the way home. He can’t hear, so when I respond louder it makes him mad lol

🐶 Get home, feed dogs, and medicate everyone again.

📦 I break out the Chromebook I had hidden away. Brand new and still in the box!

🌅 I spent most of the late afternoon setting it up.

The End

Empty Stares from an Empty Face

Dec12

I don’t know what to do.
You turn and walk away.
You can’t face this reality,
and all I can do is pray.

So I beg you to listen, to work with me—
but you push me away.
You can’t face this inevitability;
you just turn and walk away.

My heart is gray like a foggy mist,
because one day I realize
you will no longer be there—
though I may still touch your face.

And all I’ll see is an empty stare
looking back at me.

You can’t understand, can’t realize
just how deeply I care.
I love you so deeply,
and I will always be there.

To care for your scarred, worn body,
to caress your familiar face—
the man I will love always,
my husband with the empty stare.

You are here, yet you are gone,
never quite returning.
You are now a man with an empty mind,
an empty stare, an empty face.

And still… I will love you always,
my man with an empty face.