A Caregiver Cries

When you are sorrowful
look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth
you are weeping for that
which has been your delight.
-- Kahlil Gibran

I began to cry yesterday morning. I simply started crying yesterday morning and didn't stop until 3:00 a.m. today.

I don't know why, don't know the cause of my tearfulness, although it probably had something to do with the grieving process, my grieving process in losing Romeo to dementia. I'm grieving the loss of my husband to dementia, grieving the loss of his presence at home, grieving the loss of the future we had anticipated before dementia, grieving for his pain and suffering, grieving for the love of my lifetimes.

Nothing in particular sparked my tears. Nothing in general sparked my tears. They simply came, flowing strongly, loudly. No thoughts, just tears.

I let them flow. I sat cross-legged on the couch with a box of tissues, and I cried. I moved to the dining room table, and I cried. I got up and moved to the desk in the study, and I cried. I jumped onto the bed and hugged the pillows, and I cried. I sat cross-legged in the comfy, overstuffed chair in the study, and I cried. I went to visit Romeo in the nursing home (probably not a wise move), and I cried. I came home and sat cross-legged on the couch with a box of tissues and started the cycle again. Nothing to do but let it out. It kept coming. I soaked in my spa tub and cried into the lavender aromatherapy bath. The tears kept coming, my sobs matching the rhythm of the water spouting from the jets.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, as quickly as it started, it stopped. There were no more tears. They were gone. I was quiet for the first time that day. And I felt better. I finally felt better. The sadness and grief were gone...for now.

Tired and spent, with nothing more to give, I crawled into bed, under the comforting pressure of the blanket and the soft sheets. I ran my hands through my hair, massaged my face, neck, and head. I thought of my sweet Romeo and wondered what we could have been thinking to stage such a difficult life as this for ourselves. And then exhausted, body pulled into a fetal position, I slept the long and dreamless sleep of a newborn baby. Held, cradled, showered with unconditional motherly love, I slept soundly for five hours then woke refreshed to a new day.