Living

It’s been very hard to call Rhode Island to find out how Robert is doing. I kept planning to call but the right time always seemed to slip by. Then finally Tuesday morning, with Lila quietly in her kennel, and me in my studio, I took a deep breath and called Cynthia, his main caregiver for the past five years. She was, as always, very forthright, direct, told me exactly how he is. And it was such a relief to be able to talk so openly with her.

Robert is still alive, fading rapidly. The infection is probably still spreading in him. But what is blossoming is not what I had expected. His emotions are walking in quicksand right now: totally unstable. He is treating Cynthia with hostility and aggression (as aggressive as someone who is paralyzed from the neck down can be: verbal abuse, his forte). She said she only goes to the nursing home once a week. It is too painful. She pays his bills, takes care of his affairs, and listens to his attacks. She can be very direct and I am sure lets him know how unpleasant and unfair he is being.

But he is not changing in a positive way. I had hoped that he would soften as death approaches. But, as Cynthia said, “People don’t change and shoes don’t stretch. You have to buy the right size.” And “he’s lost that lov’n feelin’.”

So for me, it was sad to hear that he is being so difficult but helped me let go of any fantasy I might have of his being different, learning, softening. He just cannot let anyone love him. He has to push them away. Even now. When time is so short for him. It is very sad.

Yet talking to Cynthia about Robert was, for my own life, like opening a window, letting in some fresh air. I can let go of wanting more from him. I’m glad to have known him, glad I’m not with him now. The wind closed the pages of that chapter.

Cynthia and I ended our conversation talking about Lila and wheat-free breads (I had sent Robert some Irish Soda Bread from Tamar’s and she had tasted it even though she avoids wheat, as I should as well). She asked Lila’s size and plans to make a winter coat for her. That will be fun in the snow! And she will send me some recipes. So something warm and friendly, along with the sadness, came in the window.

Posted by leya at January 26, 2006 10:53 AM