January 31. I circled the date on my desk calendar at work with a blue felt-tip pen. It was only the Wednesday before
Thanksgiving, but there was a long wait to see the neurologist and I was lucky to get my husband, Wayne, in to be seen at all. Meanwhile I didn’t want him to overhear me making the appointment.
I drove home from work, praying Wayne would agree to go. From day to day I never knew what kind of mood he would be in. He’d recently retired after a 39-year career at an international tech company, a job he loved. Retirement had required an adjustment, but to me that didn’t explain what was different about Wayne. Something was off, I was sure. I just couldn’t say what.
At home I found Wayne sitting in the living room. “What’d you do today?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful.
“I filled the tires, like you wanted,” he said.
Filled the tires? I walked out to the car and realized Wayne had meant he’d filled the gas tank. It made sense, as we were driving to see family for Thanksgiving, but the mix-up was the kind of mistake my husband made all too often these days—too many senior moments.
Initially, I’d thought it was me. I second-guessed myself, wondering if I needed to have my hearing checked. Wayne hadn’t really asked for a towel on his hamburger—surely he had asked for cheese. But the closer I listened, the more obvious it was that Wayne was confusing his words without ever realizing it. Trouble was, the signals that something was wrong came and went. We weren’t young anymore. Who wasn’t forgetful? No one else was around Wayne enough to see any kind of pattern. “It’s like he’s speaking in Mad Libs,” I said to my sister on the phone that evening.
Continue reading your story on the app
Continue reading your story in the magazine
Could my husband’s recent retirement explain his behavior?
It wasn’t in my power to mend a broken heart, but I sent needle and thread, with chocolates for good measure
Problems? She Can Relate
Meet New Jersey’s Own Black Fairy Godmother
Straight from heaven—with love
The Humility Sisters
What would two nuns know about taking care of a baby?
How could a dog know just what so many people needed?
Built by Angels
My mother called to ask if I knew the story of the 11 churches carved from single stones in Ethiopia
ONE RED GLOVE
Its message helped me shake the blues
Clutter, Be Gone!
Fifteen minutes a day keeps the mess away
A housewarming gift
My husband seemed to be in every room— even though I knew he was in heaven
UNLOCK YOUR POTENTIAL
Hypnosis is a way to empower yourself to have the life that you truly want.
Rescue On The High Rise Bridge
With his truck dangling 70 feet above a roiling river and a storm whipping 50-mph winds, a trapped driver’s only hope is a team of trained emergency rescuers—who are stuck in traffic
X's and O's: Cowboys
Leonard Williams sacks Cowboys quar terback Andy Dalton.
RESOLUTIONS OF RESILIENCE
Seven Habits for Healthcare Workers On the Edge of Burnout
Who are we?
In a year full of complete and absolute uncertainty, our New York Giants have provided us with much of the same, leaving us feeling like we are riding on a never-ending roller coaster loaded with peaks and valleys.
RIDING THE TAIL OF THE DRAGON
RIDING THE TAIL OF THE DRAGON
SMILODON - SINBAD AND THE EYE OF THE TIGER
This is the first large scale resin model kit of the Sinbad Smilodon that I have built. A great tribute model to the astonishing Ray Harryhausen creature creation. It was such an excellent sculpt that I was inspired to write this how-to article; featuring this great resin kit sculpted by Joe Bailey and produced by Typhon Studios (Mike Calvert and Brian Watters). This was a special art piece commissioned by Wayne Middleton and only a few copies were made available to the public. I am so glad that I was able to secure a copy for my personal collection.
The wild and crazy 2000 season
It is during the month of October — Oct. 23, to be precise — that we’ll arrive at the 20th anniversary of perhaps the craziest game in Dolphins history.
Huff and puff smokehouse
There are six famous barbecue styles in the American South. Everyone has heard of Kansas City-style and Alabama white sauce, but why isn’t Mississippi style on the list? It should be.