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Visitation

 Every day is so different, nothing I say is going to stick.  Two weeks ago I was crying all the time. One week ago Mike was clearly depressed. This weekend his parents were here and that was okay. This evening was actually nice. When we can flirt with each other, everything is fine, really. When there are signs that his eyesight is getting better, things are great. That might only last a little while, though. On Friday, the speech therapist asked him to describe a perfect day, as an exercise in storytelling. He could barely get two sentences in, because once we went to Davis Square to look at comic books, he started to cry. His comic books. His art.  But then yesterday, he read me part of a license plate from a car in the parking lot, through the window. And today he was able to name the playing cards I held up, though it took a moment or two. During his nap, Adam and I left his parents here while we went to meet the kittens our friends are fostering, to help socialize them. It was ni
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How are you managing?

The simplest plug for the hole is counting. Count backwards from 100 by sevens. When that gets too easy, pick a different number-by sixes, thirteens. Throw in a round saying the alphabet backwards--careful you don't memorize it. When you really need to shut up your brain, including sealing up the edges, you can start at one thousand and subtract 9, then subtract 8, then 7. When you get down to 1, start over at 9. By the time you get down into the 700s you might have a handle on things. Not thinking about the bad things is the key. So when there is something to do, something to focus on, that will help. A lot of people clean or cook or work out; doesn't help me. Then I'm just fretful and stressed by the task. I have to shout something else in my head until the thought I don't want to have goes away. I sleep a lot. That helps. Recitations. I like prayers, because they're short and meant to be repeated. Our Father and Hail Mary.  Focusing on weird breathing can help in
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Questions

 I lurk on a message board and have been thinking about posting for help. I've been thinking about it for months, actually--questions from "how am I supposed to be a good mom?" to "how can I pass the time with someone who is blind and has very little fine motor control?" I still want to ask all those questions. But the one I need to ask right now is how to stop crying all the time. I have NEVER been good at not crying when I want to cry. I can only stop crying by aggressively not thinking about upsetting things. I can hold that steady for a while, but there are limits and I reach them every weekend.  I don't even quite know why I'm crying. Because my future is a yawning void? Because the person I love most is suffering? Because I don't get to leave the house? Because my life is meaningless? Because my husband's life is meaningless? Because I don't think it's going to get any better? Because I don't know what's going to happen and
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Mourning

I did my mourning months ago, in the first few days when I thought he would die, and then in the first few weeks when I thought he would never wake up. That's when I cried to my mother that he holds half my memories, that fully half of my personality is inside jokes that only he knows. Without him, I am an astronaut untethered in space.  (I'm crying again. I don't cry that much really.) But he didn't die. He woke up. He's struggling and stuck, blind and weak and unable to stand up alone, but he's here. And he's himself , making jokes and thanking me for my work and talking about Star Wars. I'm so glad he's here. No exaggeration; everything I need is here. But I do think I have to mourn for the guy who's gone. The husband whose jobs were online research, filing systems, and mousetraps. The Mike who did the second leg of teaching our son to ride a bike (the pedaling part). The way I could recognize him in a crowd of people walking out of the train
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