It's the Little Things

It's the little things along the way, the small, sometimes subtle (sometimes not), changes in the situation, that push us, kicking and screaming, into the next phase of this journey. I cling with all my might to hang on to whatever is the current "normal", only to find I must, at some point, release it, and move on to the new "normal". Soon, they all add up to an unrecognizeable life, but still, I cling. Take the hospital bed. It would have been so much easier to have had it sooner. Easier for us, taking care of Lou, and easier for Lou. But no, I waited until it was actually dangerous for Lou to be in our bed because he had tumbled out, before getting the hospital bed. I ignored the need until I couldn't any longer. And then, there it was. I pushed it right up next to our bed, raised it to the same level, put pillows over the small break between the two beds, and slept holding onto Lou as if it were one giant bed. It worked wonderfully for over a month. Not now. Now, we need the beds separated, so that we can get around the bed to take care of things during the night. I said "let's try to keep it the way it is for awhile more".... and we did, for two weeks. But last night, the beds were separated. The bars went up on the side closest to me. The space between the two is as narrow as it can be. But it's there. I can only put my hand through the bars and touch Lou's arm, and sometimes, hold his hand. It's not good enough. There are times he gets very anxious during his sleep. I need to be there. One more little thing, in a string of so many, that add up to this unrecognizeable life. And still, I cling.