Christmas Countdown 2022

 

Bill listening to his radio in our sunroom tonight.

This time next year Christmas 2022 will be another memory.

I'm always amazed at how fast time goes by. Here we are, another year almost gone. 

The photo above is of Bill sitting in our sun room.  Bill spends most of his day sitting in our sun room. When he doesn't, like this morning, means that I'm occupied with trying to contain him from doing any more damage around here. Because of Bill's blindness, he cannot do what he used to do. But I understand he wants to do something because he doesn't want to just sit in our sunroom all day. I understand that. 

This morning he was down in is bedroom hammering. "What is he doing now?" I thought? He was hanging a picture. Oh God. 

I stopped doing what I was doing during one of my Me Time and went downstairs to help him. He wanted to pull the wires from the wire that he from one of his many previous projects. I don't know if I got through to him this morning that he doesn't have to wire our house anymore because things are done wireless (WIFI) now days. He doesn't understand how that works. Bill's career was as an electronics technician for RCA and then GE. He never progressed past the 80's when he retired. 

This past weekend we wanted to hook up a new doorbell. Yes, a doorbell, the old fashion kind. I explained to him that I now have Ring Doorbell which sounds like a real doorbell (rings in the house) and that I can access through my iPhone. I told him that I could be in California and I can still access whoever is at the front door with my iPhone. He doesn't understand. 

I don't want to bore the readers of this blog but I guess you can get the gist that I'm a bit frustrated today. Yes, I have my good days and then my bad days. Today was a bad day. I'm venting. 

I am so tired. January will be two years of total caregiving for Bill. I cannot and Bill will not accept any other way at this time of his life. I cannot put him in a facility. We can't afford it and I wouldn't do it if I could. I couldn't sleep at night knowing he was under the "care" of some impersonal "facility" that is actually a warehouse for people at the end of their lives whose family does not or cannot care for them. 

I fully realize that my situation is a "First World Problem." I'm not living in Ukraine where monster Putin is torturing a whole country for his megalomania. Bill is ambulatory. He can get around. He's not mean or nasty. He's appreciative. My life could be a lot worse and in many ways I'm very lucky. But still, this isn't easy folks. 

You know as exhausting it was to have that kitten a few weeks ago, I miss her. She bonded with me right away and was a comfort to me. She was a stress reliever. I will never get another cat as long as I'm caring for Bill but I think I will if I ever make to being alone again. That little, bright, whip smart kitten provided something I'm missing right now, peace. Now it makes sense what Bill said the second day I had the kitten. He said "I think you care more about that cat than you do me."  I said "She's just a kitten, she's trying to get used to her new surroundings." But right away I realized that I was robbing Peter to pay Paul and that wasn't working. Thus, I got rid of the cat. 

Talking to Pat last night (on FaceTime) I told him I always yearned to live alone. I grew up in a very chaotic household. When I was about twelve years old my goal when I grew up and left home was to have my own place. I just wanted to live alone. The irony is that only happened for two brief periods in my life. Once when I got out of the Army and the few months before I met Bill in 1964. After a six month courtship he wanted me to move in with him. I declined, just wanting to be "friends." That was the first time he got angry in our relationship. He said if I didn't move in with him he would end our relationship. He did say that if I moved in with him I could "go out" anytime I wanted to. He would never 'hold me back." And true to his promise, he never did. The other time I lived by myself was in 1980 when we were building our dream house in Pennsylvania. We had sold our town house in Center City Philadelphia and our dream house in the country wasn't finished. Ah, those days when I didn't have a problem selling a house. At that time I got an apartment in Center City for a year. Our house in the country was finished a few months before my lease was up and Bill begged me to move to our house in the country. He said "Please make it a home." So I left my lease three months early. And now here I am, eighty-one years old never having really lived alone or having a cat. Again a "First World Problem." 

Thanks for listening to my vent folks. Just getting through each day one day at a time.