A couple

                I’ve been married over twenty-six years to a woman I met by chance. No church social, no dating service, no friends intentionally bringing us together. We’ve never failed to love each other (when we weren’t feeling the overwhelming urge to strangle each other, that is) and I’d have to say this marriage has been and promises to continue to be successful by any reasonable  measure.

                The other day, included among the folks gathered at my mother-in-law’s house were her brother and his wife. He is a salt-of-the-earth workaday guy and she is a retired actress and somehow, their differences have melded with their similarities and they’ve built a life together these fifty-some years. I’ve met them over the years at assorted family gatherings where Ray would sip beer and toss horseshoes with the male uncles and cousins. Diane would regale anyone within reach of her voice with stories of her adventures as an actress. Sometimes, clumps of cousins and in-laws would gather around the TV to view her latest commercial appearance.

                It had been some time since I’d seen them and I’d been warned that Diane was losing her memory. Still, you’re never quite prepared for a family member not to recognize people with whom she’s known and shared good times and bad her whole adult life. She was pleasant and gracious and absolutely clueless as to who we were or why she should know us. She would recall oddments, details such as hair color or a distant cousin’s name, but the substance of long-established relationships is just no longer at hand. And never again will be.

                Diane loves to move and showed us her favorite dance steps as the mood struck. And Ray smiled and laughed. I can’t imagine the difficulty of watching your life partner drift so far away without ever really moving at all. More and more of their history together has been inexplicably erased and she does not always recall that they’re husband and wife.  But she also never strays far from his side. And his hand is always there to hold.

                Any couple has their moments and I’m sure Alzheimer’s does little to enhance marital bliss. But they are still very much that - a couple. 

                For years Diane has been coming unmoored from the memories and confidences that make up a life together. Their life together increasingly involves hurt and frustration and the crushing, horrid, advancing loss. But for Ray, Diane is still very much here and very much the love of his life.