“My wife; my wife”

Late in 2015 a new lady, Mrs J moved into the residence.  She was not alone; in fact her sister moved in with her.  After settling in and getting used to the amenities available to her including the chauffeur service, she decided to take a ride to visit her husband on the Vets Memorial Hospital.  He had been living there for over three years and is in a very advanced stage of dementia. 

 

After several trips and getting to know each other, one day I asked her how Mr J was.  She was very gracious and replied that he was not all that well but “he knew she was there”. 

 

She commented that one way he knows her is of course her voice which he has heard for over sixty-six years of marriage.  Another way was her perfume, always familiar to him, and most touchingly he would hold her hand and feel for the wedding rings on her left hand and that always confirmed it truly was his dear wife.

 

It is that single recognition that sparks a glint in her eye every time she relates it to me.   Mr J is 93 years old at the time of this entry and Mrs J visits him daily.  His son visited him one day and he uttered in such a way as to request it, “my wife; my wife”.  He did not know his son but asked for her through him. 

 

It is this kind of thing that helps me realize just how important a ride is to so many lonely people living at the retirement residence.