Watching Robert lose ground one tiny bit at a time is an excruciating watch. I feel as if I have been on the palace watchtower straining and searching for signs of an approaching enemy. When I catch sight of the first troops they are a wisp of dust stirred by their horse's hooves. As days pass and I look again and again I recognize the fierce advance of warriors still far, far away. Lately, I hear the faint sound of hooves as they strike the ground. I watch, knowing the fight that cannot be won is on the way. I watch as one who is prepared for the coming adversary yet cannot tear my eyes away from the horizon wishing I could, of my own fierce will, turn the adversary away and claim the victory.
Robert is currently in a nursing home in a town about 34 miles from our home. He is under "rehab" status at this point. Soon I will need to make a decision about bringing him home or asking them to do the paperwork for him to become a resident.
He has been losing ground for several months. I had no idea how desperately lonely and painful this time in our journey with FTD would become with each day that passes.
I covet your prayers for wisdom, clarity, peace of mind for me and peace of mind and body for Robert. So many of you know this path intimately. We have so many friends, family, and professionals who are supportive and loving. A friend of mine reminded me that the path is ours to be walked and only we can walk it but we are not alone on this path.
Of course, I have no idea how or when this journey with FTD will end. I pray God will grant me the humility to let His love reign in my times with Robert. If you know me at all you know I can be impatient and overbearing. I pray God will grant me freedom from those traits in the times I spend with Robert.
Several of you have asked for an update on Robert and me. This is hot off the press. Much love!
