Someone to Hold Hands with

On a marriage that spanned across almost HALF a century! On how much more love this elderly man has to offer to his wife, as she’d slowly, become, demented, translated…

My parents had met and fell in love, almost half a century ago, as my father introduced my mother to others, he’d always stated, “Someone I’d held hands with!”, but, being traditional as he was, and shy, he’d never actually, held my mother’s hands once.

what a love like that looks like, photo from online…

In his midlife years, he’d still had that handsomeness from when he was younger, and, all of their friends and relatives commended him on how he’d still looked, handsome as ever, he’d felt happy of it too. And, on the contrary, mom’s gaining weight by the days, it’d not added to the blessings to her life, instead, she’d gained an accumulation of illnesses big and small, and, her face became, yellow like the wax, she’d looked, very aged now. As they go out together, my father would always be mistaken as my mother’s son, and, although my father thought it to be odd, but he was, secretly happy about that he “looked young still”, and started, striding; and although mom wanted to catch up, following behind him, she just, could never manage. I’m sure, she was, beaten by her own sense of pride, as well as her own self-confidence because of it.

In the road of marriage, the two of them trekked, one in front, one behind, and, the concepts of being together holding hands just, never quite, happened for them, and after awhile, it’d become, normal for them. I’d thought, that that, was the end, to how they’re interacting, that they were going to, keep on interacting with one another like this until they died, but, toward the terminal station of my mother’s life, things started to change.

making sure she stays warm when she sleeps, NOT my photograph…

As my mother marched into the later stages of Alzheimer’s, she’d become fearful and stagnant as she was about to cross the roads with oncoming traffic at this time, my father would extend his hand out, to hold hands with her, and mom would smile like a shy little girl, and, followed my father, step, by step.

As she’d become, totally, unaware of the goings on of day to day, she’d still known, that pops was her, “husband”. And, as the bus from the daycare center gave her a lift home, she’d used the unfamiliar tone of Mandarin, “My husband has come to pick me up!”, that simple line, very articulated, and precisely, showed off what she has. Then, my father would, naturally, take her hand, and lead her into the house.

As I write up to here, it’s, as if, my mom, who’s up in heaven already, was flashing that mysterious smile of hers, as her hand was held tightly by pops. As for dad, I’d wanted to tell him, “I’m, giving you a kudos!”

another lovely couple here, photo from online…

So, this, is how things changed, as his wife was diagnosed with dementia, and, this man loved his wife so, with his actions, and, despite the mother’s deteriorating away, he’d still loved her more and more, each and every day, and that, is what finding the one to walk to the very end of life is about…

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