The past two days have been awful.

Jim has regressed back to where he was  just after moved here. Academically, I knew this could happen but I don’t think anyone can truly be prepared for such a large set-back/regression/memory fail. Acerbated by his desire to leave, and go back to where it’s familiar, even though I’m not sure such a place exists anymore. His memories have all skewed together and become a jumbled mess.

Over the past week he’s been angry at his brother for losing touch. He was worried about his mother. Was she dead and he hadn’t been told.

In reality, his brother died in the eighties and Jim was looking after his mother when she died in 1999.

Jim doesn’t wake in a panic, as he did that first morning. Whew! But we’ve had circular hour-long conversations confirming that we sold or old house, where the money from the sale went, where were we going to stay, did this place (our new house) have a bathroom/bedroom, who all lived with us, do his children know where he is etc. Plus, he’d ask odd questions presenting a peek into his ‘how-life-works’ comprehension, like: what did the people who used to live here think about us moving in to their house? As if I kicked out the owners, instead of buying a house that was already up for sale.

It was like the last two months of understanding we’d moved, had gone out the window.

I kept my answers as simple and short as I could. Sometimes I’d have to expand on the details to make it clear, other times, he’d nod as if understanding and then repeat the question again.

It’s hard not to let your emotions show during the sixth or seventh time through the same conversation, when your heart is breaking.