Thank you so much! My wife, who is in the final stage of Alzheimer's, is named Eva. She cannot talk to me anymore, but I am praying that God gives her one sentence at the very end. That sentence would be exactly what your Eva has said. In the meantime, body language will have to do. Our love has never been stronger. Whatever happens, at the end, I will say these words and long for a nod of her head.
Paul, I don’t know what to say. Your words stopped me in my tracks. Eva too. She sends a prayer to your Eva. I lost my Opa to dementia last October. Sending you all the strength in the world.
I went through this with my wife. It was a heartbreaking 10 year journey and I was her primary caregiver. We couldn’t have a conversation for the last 4 years of her life. My heart goes out to you.
To all who contributed to this uplifting conversation, I have just published a memoir about my Eva’s Alzheimer’s journey. Some of you might want to read it. On Amazon, “Into the Mist: An Alzheimer’s Journey” is the story of Eva’s descent into the final stage (out of respect for her privacy, I have called her “Lena” in the book). This is not a sob story. There are moments of joy on the journey. We are now in what I call “God’s Extra Innings,” with her decline arrested - for now. God will take her when he chooses; I am enjoying every day until that time. Thank you all again for the good feeling that never fades. Paul Shemella
I read this three times and immediately saved the quote in my phone so I can revisit it whenever I need a reminder to see life as a beautiful story. It made me reflect on how important it is to remember that everything has an end.
Our brains trick us into thinking things will always be like this. We get overwhelmed, wondering how we could possibly endure this forever. We snap at our kids because of the yelling, the fighting, the mess. We stumble through sleepless nights, waking again and again to the cries of a newborn.
But one day, it stops. Whatever it is. Our children grow up. We leave jobs or coworkers move on. The people we once loved or complained about fade from our daily lives. The things we rushed for lose their urgency. And somehow, it all becomes part of a beautiful story.
We love those kinds of stories in theory—movies that make us cry, where the protagonist grows through love and loss, pain and joy. But when hard emotions show up in our own lives, we resist. In the depths of depression, we wonder if joy will ever return. In the messy middle of learning, we convince ourselves we’ll never be good enough.
But if we can hold on a little longer. If we let ourselves move like water, flowing through the bends and turns… we might begin to see life for what it truly is: not a static moment, but a story unfolding.
Thank you for this truly gorgeous post—you gave my Heart’s Darling, my beloved husband of 35 years, a way to respond back to me after I shared a scene from the Kdrama, When Life Gives You Tangerines, where the husband & wife are having this exact conversation. I watched it yesterday—sobbing at how truly it reflects my experience with my husband—and this morning I shared the scene with him after breakfast as we sat together at the kitchen table in the home we’ve shared for over 20 years.
We smiled at each other without words after watching it. We both got it.
Then we moved on with the tasks of our morning, as caregivers for his 93-yo Mom—cherishing those moments we had to ourselves after breakfast.
And then your post came across his feed while he was out this morning.
He came home from a swim, back to that kitchen table, where now I was sharing lunch with Mom & making the space for him to join us. He placed his phone next to me, face up with your post cued up & smiled—that one where I know he has something to share with me that has to wait til it’s just us again.
After lunch was over and Mom headed off to her “office” he handed me his phone and said, “Just read this,” with such a tender look in his eyes.
Your words grabbed me instantly—your word-painting so masterful that you & your Eva disappeared & it was my Charlie & me in that water, embracing every instant of what it means to love that deeply & know your days are numbered.
There are no words to describe the preciousness of your word-gift—for every one of us whose hearts you touched today.
Wow, thank you for taking me into that space. It’s really quite surreal to have a glimpse into how and where one’s words reach someone. Beautiful reflection.
Something just drew me to THIS poem on THIS day. As I sit here crying like a baby, reflecting on the 11th anniversary of my husband passing away, I truly know how beautiful my life was with him in it. And I am so thankful and blessed that he chose me to be his partner and wife for 38 years. As I move on now, as a single person, I pray that he will guide me to have a blessed life and to help me open my heart to be happy once again.
My dear husband, Bob, passed away seven years ago and I keep Barbra Streisand's recording of "What matters most" in my phone to make immediate our forty years together whenever I listen to it. I was so fortunate to have been able to share my life with Bob.
Thank you so much! My wife, who is in the final stage of Alzheimer's, is named Eva. She cannot talk to me anymore, but I am praying that God gives her one sentence at the very end. That sentence would be exactly what your Eva has said. In the meantime, body language will have to do. Our love has never been stronger. Whatever happens, at the end, I will say these words and long for a nod of her head.
Paul, I don’t know what to say. Your words stopped me in my tracks. Eva too. She sends a prayer to your Eva. I lost my Opa to dementia last October. Sending you all the strength in the world.
I went through this with my wife. It was a heartbreaking 10 year journey and I was her primary caregiver. We couldn’t have a conversation for the last 4 years of her life. My heart goes out to you.
Heartbreakingly beautiful…
Holding you both in my heart, Paul.
You are heard. You are loved.
To all who contributed to this uplifting conversation, I have just published a memoir about my Eva’s Alzheimer’s journey. Some of you might want to read it. On Amazon, “Into the Mist: An Alzheimer’s Journey” is the story of Eva’s descent into the final stage (out of respect for her privacy, I have called her “Lena” in the book). This is not a sob story. There are moments of joy on the journey. We are now in what I call “God’s Extra Innings,” with her decline arrested - for now. God will take her when he chooses; I am enjoying every day until that time. Thank you all again for the good feeling that never fades. Paul Shemella
I read this three times and immediately saved the quote in my phone so I can revisit it whenever I need a reminder to see life as a beautiful story. It made me reflect on how important it is to remember that everything has an end.
Our brains trick us into thinking things will always be like this. We get overwhelmed, wondering how we could possibly endure this forever. We snap at our kids because of the yelling, the fighting, the mess. We stumble through sleepless nights, waking again and again to the cries of a newborn.
But one day, it stops. Whatever it is. Our children grow up. We leave jobs or coworkers move on. The people we once loved or complained about fade from our daily lives. The things we rushed for lose their urgency. And somehow, it all becomes part of a beautiful story.
We love those kinds of stories in theory—movies that make us cry, where the protagonist grows through love and loss, pain and joy. But when hard emotions show up in our own lives, we resist. In the depths of depression, we wonder if joy will ever return. In the messy middle of learning, we convince ourselves we’ll never be good enough.
But if we can hold on a little longer. If we let ourselves move like water, flowing through the bends and turns… we might begin to see life for what it truly is: not a static moment, but a story unfolding.
And this moment? It was always meant to change.
Laura, your words speak to truths that only become truer as one gets older. Thank you for your thoughtful reflection.
And then we realize - that this material life is but a dream - as Shakespeare said . Oh the glorious expectation of what our true Life will be !.
Very well said and very true. I’ve lived it.
Beautifully said…
Simple and human and touching
glad it came across in all those ways 💙
Thank you for this truly gorgeous post—you gave my Heart’s Darling, my beloved husband of 35 years, a way to respond back to me after I shared a scene from the Kdrama, When Life Gives You Tangerines, where the husband & wife are having this exact conversation. I watched it yesterday—sobbing at how truly it reflects my experience with my husband—and this morning I shared the scene with him after breakfast as we sat together at the kitchen table in the home we’ve shared for over 20 years.
We smiled at each other without words after watching it. We both got it.
Then we moved on with the tasks of our morning, as caregivers for his 93-yo Mom—cherishing those moments we had to ourselves after breakfast.
And then your post came across his feed while he was out this morning.
He came home from a swim, back to that kitchen table, where now I was sharing lunch with Mom & making the space for him to join us. He placed his phone next to me, face up with your post cued up & smiled—that one where I know he has something to share with me that has to wait til it’s just us again.
After lunch was over and Mom headed off to her “office” he handed me his phone and said, “Just read this,” with such a tender look in his eyes.
Your words grabbed me instantly—your word-painting so masterful that you & your Eva disappeared & it was my Charlie & me in that water, embracing every instant of what it means to love that deeply & know your days are numbered.
There are no words to describe the preciousness of your word-gift—for every one of us whose hearts you touched today.
Thank you will simply have to do it.💜🙏💜
Wow, thank you for taking me into that space. It’s really quite surreal to have a glimpse into how and where one’s words reach someone. Beautiful reflection.
Something just drew me to THIS poem on THIS day. As I sit here crying like a baby, reflecting on the 11th anniversary of my husband passing away, I truly know how beautiful my life was with him in it. And I am so thankful and blessed that he chose me to be his partner and wife for 38 years. As I move on now, as a single person, I pray that he will guide me to have a blessed life and to help me open my heart to be happy once again.
Wishing you all the happiness in the world, Laura. Timing can be such a delicate thing.
Yes it can, Christian. ⏳🙏 And thank you very much!
My dear husband, Bob, passed away seven years ago and I keep Barbra Streisand's recording of "What matters most" in my phone to make immediate our forty years together whenever I listen to it. I was so fortunate to have been able to share my life with Bob.
Going to play this song now. All the best to you, Elaine.
The longer you have committed to a relationship the deeper that sentence goes
So sweet 💕
thanks, Jenny!
I read this as I sipped my morning coffee in solitude. It was perfect,
as I accidentally set off some lovely background music on my phone. A reminder that life is indeed beautiful
I am a widower and this touched me deeply.
I'm really moved by your comment, Tim. All the best to you.
“If something happens to me, I want you to know that life with you was beautiful.” Incredibly beautiful sentiment.
Endless Love
Bridgy
Poignantly beautiful.
Poignantly on point.
Beautifully expressive… thank you
Men in love is my favourite genre ♥️♥️♥️
We exist!