The last few weeks have shown me exactly how much I’ve lost my husband.

Using the scale I devised to measure his decline (assuming him as 100% in 2014):

He was 90% in July 2017 – Able to function normally, but lost the ability to critically comprehend complex processes like investments, getting a loan or renewing car insurance.

He was 80% two years later when we had to do the same thing. He could still cook and drive but sat silent in meetings discussing our finances. Traveling to his children, despite the familiar hotel, was disorienting for him.

Christmas last year, 2020 was sad. He was repeating himself often, and his anxiety of ‘his’ unknown underlined everything. We finally had a diagnosis which helped but he was still too mobile and aware to require assistance. I’d put him at 50%.

Which brings us to this Christmas. He’s constantly eating. He searches the counter for more munchies before he’s even thrown out the wrapper from the granola bar still in his mouth. His short term memory is practically non existent and he’s lost track of most of his iron-clad schedule. He hasn’t done laundry in months and started asking me on Monday morning if it was grocery day (Saturdays). Then he’s asked again on Tuesday, Wednesday etc., until it was. So far, two weeks in a row.

When he tells me stories, he’s missing details. They’ve become ‘that thing’ or ‘I forget why we were there but…’ and then go on to the rest of the story. If he paused, I’d provide the detail he was looking for and then, when he got to the end of the story, it would remind him of the incident and he’d start to tell me the story again. More often than not, still forgetting the same details.

He checks for the mail 5-8 times a day, often immediately after he hands me the envelopes he just took from the mailbox.

I must grade him at 10-15% now. He still laughs at jokes and makes them himself. He’s nearing complete helplessness. I have to guide him in appropriate clothes to wear and need to start watching him as he showers to ensure he’s getting himself clean.

I miss my partner. I miss the guy who could let me vent and offer up a solution he he had one.

To add to my feelings of isolation, I purchased a house to move us across the country to be closer to my family. Just before Christmas, tragedy struck when the seller died. So much stress and heartache. Then I found out yesterday that the at-home career, I’d been working on for over a year had just lost a major component, because of a debatable misstep made several months ago.

I am alone in dealing with this. The little Jim’s been told, he can’t comprehend and he quickly changes to a more comfortable subject. Usually a memory of when he was a kid.

My friends are great, but they aren’t my husband.

I’ve felt the anticipatory grief on his behalf, as I watch him lose his abilities. I guess now, I’m finally starting the process of feeling like a widow because I’m grieving the loss of my partner. It was anecdotal before, now it’s real.