Dementia – I spent over a decade watching the woman I loved slip away.
I spent over a decade watching the woman I loved slip away. For ten years, my wife battled dementia, and I battled right alongside her. We did everything humanly possible: research programs at Johns Hopkins, specialized diets with Alzheimer’s experts, and every medical avenue available to slow the relentless progression. But despite our best efforts, the medical hope dimmed.
In our mid-50s, facing a future that looked increasingly bleak, we made a radical choice to move to her hometown of Pensacola. We wanted to be near her mother and the beaches we both loved. We hoped the salt air and better climate would offer a reprieve, but the disease didn’t care about the scenery. It kept marching forward, and the world grew darker.
I had the books. I knew the “seven stages” intellectually. But knowing the map doesn’t make the terrain any less rugged. Emotionally, I was drowning in aggravation and hopelessness. As she entered the later stages—lost in delusion and confusion—I found myself praying for God to take her home. Then came the crushing guilt: How could I feel this way about the woman who gave me two beautiful children and followed me around the world during my military career?
After 43 years of marriage, I knew I owed her the best care possible, but I was wearing out.
The turning point came when I stopped trying to be a “fixer” and started being a husband. Through the help of part-time caregivers and the grace of my church—where wonderful ladies sat with her on Saturday mornings—I found space to breathe. During those Saturday walks, I realized I couldn’t fix the disease, but I could acquiesce to the role God had for me. He gave me the resolve to be loving and compassionate, even in the darkest days I had ever known.
Even as I grieved the wife who was physically present but “gone,” I found that God was still there. When hospice chaplains visited, they remarked on the peace in our home. Internally, I was still struggling, but externally, my faith was my anchor.
When she finally went to be with Jesus, I hit a new kind of bottom. The battle was over, but the silence was deafening. I felt alone, my heart was confused, and the loneliness was a weight I couldn’t shake. I cried out to God to take me home, too.
But God had a different plan for my “after.”
In a moment of strange, divine impulse, I registered for a Christian dating site. At that exact moment, a woman whose account was about to expire received a notification about me. We talked for two weeks, our paths converged, and what followed was a whirlwind of restoration. It was instant love—a gift I didn’t think was possible again.
Out of that healing, my wife, Pat Thompson and are the founders of Joshua Resources. A ministry born to help others in overwhelming seasons. To transition to the new place God has for them. In looking back over the last 20 months, I see a life full of purpose and joy that I couldn’t have imagined while sitting in that dark tunnel.
If you are in the darkness right now, please know: the battle will wear you out. It is okay to be exhausted. But if you lean on your faith, trust in God, and accept the hands reached out to help you, you will see it through. There truly is light at the end of the tunnel. http://www.JoshuaResources.org/courses