It is another cold day and maybe the best use for it is to reflect, to think, to consider the future

I HAVE declared today a day of reflection.

Seemed like the right thing to do with a cold day, clouds mixing with weak sun and coming off a few days of family visiting and more activity than an old guy is used to. Not mention more food than an old man needs but nevertheless enjoyed immensely.

I have a Zoom meeting in a few moments but that won’t spoil the nature of the day. I mostly listen to others on these calls.

So, why? I don’t know. Life seems to be drifting. Connie, deep into the final stages of dementia, is going to die mentally, probably physically, before long and our 58-year marriage will come to an end physically but will go on spiritually as long as I live. I can accept that. I am a realistic and know we are not immortal.

But, what to do? Since Connie was diagnosed almost three years ago my life has been centered in, revolved around, her condition and I would not have had it any other way. The vows said, “for better or worse” and “in sickness and in health.” I take them seriously. I know, though, that I have let my life become submerged in a routine centered around Connie and a memory care facility, to the point I have become unsure of what to do with myself.

I know there is a world out there and I need to think about reentering it. I need to, as best I can, become a citizen of that world again. I know I want to travel. I still have places on my bucket list left to visit, friends I want to see at least one last time. Family, too. 

I also want to get outside of myself. Care-giving, particularly when that care cannot lead to recovery but only death, can let a lot of self-pity, hopelessness and lethargy creep up on, and into, those giving the care. I know that has been the case with me. I have become a loner, a borderline recluse with one focus only, coming out from time to time but not looking more than a day ahead.

I SENSE that for some reason, maybe the subtle messaging from a soul that still senses some sort of life still inside me, now is the time to begin to move back into whatever the world of me is going to be.

I live in a town of quiet wealth, but I know that all around me are people in need of help. We have a couple of food pantries always in need of volunteers. Connie and I volunteered in one of them before her illness. There are other volunteer opportunities that in one way or another make life better for people other than self.

Over at my blog, intodementia.com, I have written about sensing when decline reaches the point that you can see death’s shroud off in the shadows. You can see that time when you will be alone with yourself, and you begin to wonder what that self will be and what it will do.

I guess that is what led me to feel, when I crawled out from under the covers and poured the first cup of coffee, that today might best be spent going inside myself and trying to see what sort of new self might crawl out from under those covers tomorrow, and the next day and the day after that…

Rich Heiland is a retired journalist and semi-retired consultant, trainer and public speaker. During his journalism career he was a reporter, editor, publisher, college instructor, part of a Pulitzer Prize-winning team and a National Newspaper Association Columnist of the Year honoree. He lives in West Chester, PA and can be reached at [email protected].