What Makes Me Sad

It's late and I should be in bed but I'm not tired.

So...I sit here and watch "Beat Bobby Flay" and half-heartedly put some screen-time in on social media. Facebook is too much drama, so I surf over to a site for Parkinson's people. And that's when I get sad.

There are people in every condition and in every stage of Parkinson's represented on this site. People who exercise and people who don't. People with good attitudes and people with bad ones. People who encourage and inspire, and people who drag you down and wear you out. But that's okay. That's what the site is for, and I can handle that. I choose to participate. That doesn't make me sad.

What makes me sad is reading the hearts of the caregivers who post -- mostly they are the spouses of people with Parkinson's. They love their spouses, but they are tired and discouraged. They echo the same sentiment over and over:  they miss the man or woman they married. They miss their partner's ability to participate in the same activities they used to share. They miss the joy of partnering together with dreams and plans for the future.

What makes me sad is knowing I'm doing that to my husband. I know he misses the old me...so do I.  He tells me he wishes I could walk better, and prays for me, and helps me dress and undress on hard days or when I'm especially tired. He helps with dinner every night. He loves me just the same as he always has, and he faithfully shows me the depth of his love every single day.

But I feel guilty. I know what I'm doing to him, and I can't stop it. It's not fair to him. First, because of me, he has no children. Now, because of me, he has no future. When I tell him I'm sorry for those things, he assures me he would do it all over again, that he would never want anyone but me, and he means it. But it breaks my heart. It's almost unbearable to know that I am the thief that steals his joy in life.

I don't know how to fix it, and I don't know if I can live with it. On the other hand, I don't really have a choice. I have Parkinson's Disease and I sometimes need help. I want to be whole again, and I want to be who I've always been, but I can't stop what's happening to me.

I don't really have a good way to pull this together and end it, so I'm just going to say good night.

But not before I say once again how much I love my husband.