The Memories Are All Mine Now

Sept. 20. 2017

The Memories Are All Mine Now

What a weekend! I drove down to Austin, TX, to lead my granddaughter down the aisle as she and Rob Cooperman got married. I stopped in Denton on the way down and picked up her mother, and we stayed at Rob and Melissa’s house in Round Rock, TX. 

Darlene and I got lost trying to find the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, but it worked out well, because my brother John called us from south of Austin needing instructions to get to the house. There was no way I could give him oral instructions to find the house, so I drove down to a large mall and parked there, after having him drive north on I-35 and exit on ramp 250 right next to the mall. We found each other near the big Target store, and I led him through the myriad turns to get to the house.

Texas does not believe in planning, so far worse than most places, many streets end up in dead ends or cul-de-sacs, many housing areas are isolated from neighboring projects so that you must get out the same way you came in. Twice while in the area I was shunted onto a toll highway, even though I was trying my best to stay off those. Sometimes the frontage road just ends in a ramp to the highway and there’s no turning back.

But the wedding went fine on Saturday—one of the most beautiful and emotional weddings I have ever attended. It may have been that it was a Jewish wedding, I don’t know. But it seemed to me that the emphasis was on the joy and fun of the marriage, and less of the seriousness and solemnity of the occasion, as with so many weddings. 

I always wondered why they stomped a wine glass at Jewish weddings. They explained it during the ceremony as demonstrating that if both partners work together, they can overcome any obstacle. Melissa put her foot on the stem of the glass to hold it steady while Rob stomped the cup to smash it. They were great! What a team!

Afterward everybody ate, drank and danced to the music, Some provided by a deejay and some live music by Rob Cooperman and his band. There was a lot of joyous noise and loud celebration until about 10:00 PM, when a sheriff’s deputy showed up to ask us to tone it down—some neighbors were complaining.

We left Austin to go home the next morning. I dropped Darlene off at her home in Denton, then drove on back to Durant, OK. Before I went to my place, I stopped in at Featherstone to see Carolyn. I told her how much I missed her and wished for her during the wedding. 

The next day I came back to visit her and show her pictures of the wedding on my Facebook page. She didn’t say much, and I couldn’t tell if she recognized any of the people there or not. She cried a couple of times (so did I) and we hugged each other for a long time before I left.

The next day I found out that she had a really bad night, very agitated and screaming at the nurses, and could not be calmed down for a long time. Then, totally exhausted, she slept as if she was drugged all day. She missed a couple of meals because she could not be aroused. 

I came back that evening, and I was able to get her awake, and even walk with her around the building twice. I told the nurse I had left her sitting on the couch in her room, and she offered to take her a sandwich. I love the staff at Featherstone!

This morning I talked to Rachel, the manager, about Carolyn’s deterioration, (actually she did most of the talking) and got some much needed advice. She thinks the pictures and stories of the wedding may have upset Carolyn because even if her memory doesn’t allow her to recognize what is happening, she may know that she should remember, and that would be really frustrating and maddening.

So even though I carefully try never to ask her to remember, knowing that leads to anxiety, I am going to have to be even more careful about sharing events and happenings I am involved in. 

That is hard! For forty eight years our primary goal in marriage was to find ways to make our partner happy. We searched for things we could do together, from square dancing, hiking in the mountains, bicycling for miles, traveling all over the country to family reunions and other events. I thought the memories of those fun times would last forever. In our old age, we could talk about and relive the wonderful times we had. 

It’s not to be. As Rachel pointed out, we are continually mourning the loss of our lover, even though she is still alive. What a terrible struggle!

The memories are all mine now.