Parkinson’s

Towels

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Cheryl was not a big spender. If anything she was a frugal spender and a diligent saver. When I was looking into financing a stay in some facility that could take care of her needs better than I thought I could, the price tag always took my breath away. I learned this from her but I had always felt that we had saved all our life for this very reason. Ultimately with help from my sister it worked out.

But when she did decide to spend, stand back! She had very strong opinions about what, where and how much. On shirts in the spring and summer seasons she was fond of flowers and patterns both had to be light and bright. In the fall and winter season her taste was stripes and solids. Both of those had to be darker and more subdued. I am taking all of this into account as I put together a memory quilt of her shirts with my daughter’s help.

Cheryl had two favorite stores; Kohl’s and J. C. Penney. Of the two she liked Penney’s the best. When J. C. Penney closed their mall stores in favor of stand alone buildings or mostly separate buildings this merely made it easier in her mind. And when she quit driving and I became the pilot these occasional trips became excursions. The particular location that we traveled to several times a year eventually did not keep up with profit margin expectations of the corporate office and it was closed.

The next closest Penney’s store was twice as far away driving time. Earlier I used the term excursion, so, this fact was okay, maybe more so. Kohl’s could never become an excursion because four minutes driving time on surface streets can never qualify as an excursion. In addition the type of shirts she might be inclined to buy were located barely into the four-minute-drive store, so, a Kohl’s visit was a pop-in visit. As if parkies can pop in anywhere.

On a cool day in late fall almost two years ago now, she announced one morning, “we need some new towels!” I responded with sure, do you want to go now? Today? She said no but soon. Soon became that afternoon and we went to Penney’s for towels and afterwards somewhere for dinner. An excursion was afoot.

This morning with her no longer here I was using these towels and wash cloths and thinking about that excursion and other excursions. Bath towels came from a department store like Penney’s. Kitchen towels (rags) came from Target, K-Mart, Kohl’s or the like. Pop-in stores. I was thinking about the source of things later as I was putting away the towels and disposing of other items that I had laundered the previous evening.

When we went to Penney that day looking for towels we stopped to look at earrings. None where to her liking so we moved off into the back where bath and bedding items are located but additionally there is a restroom. After the earrings she needed that facility and we were still in the stage of care where I did not need to go with her to help. Afterwards, it was on to the bath towels finally. I was the excursion driver but I was still working on patience. Often looking back on our life with Parkinson I notice how I readily agreed to some outing to somewhere but often when I got to the end point I became impatient to get the program over with.

There are many different aspects to shopping in a store for something specific. There is a wide selection of manufacturers, qualities, colors of bath towels. Cheryl would get stuck trying to decide. This was her term for it. Trying-to-decide, I think her brain got stuck on too many selections and internally she was thinking, what about this color?, this feels nice, is this a good brand? I could find my patience back when I detected this coming on her. I could not always see this happening. She was closer to death before I came to understand that I should make suggestions and help steer her thinking a little. A menu in a restaurant, a recipe, directions in a sewing pattern, a smart phone, a dumb phone, TV remote control, a fork, all of these over time became very hard if not impossible for her to understand and operate. This woman used to write software, analyze business data, taught in grade school, balanced the checking account without a calculator.

I suggested that since our overall theme of our condo was a light true green, that perhaps, we should look for towels that can go with that color. Perhaps mustard yellow was out and maybe also pumpkin orange, although browns and deep reds, fall colors would work. “This is a nice deep green…” And this cream color would provide a nice contrast. I like this deep red. We could put it out at Christmas. On the conversation went but she was no longer stuck.

We bought two of each color selected. We bought matching hand towels and wash cloths. I was particularly proud of the fact that even though two of each item was not available in the store, I was able to fill out the pairs buying them online. When UPS brought them a few days later she said, good I thought we had left them at the store. We should wash them first before using them. Sure I said as I carried them to the washer and assembled a bulky items load in it.

I wash a lot of items together and call it a mixed load.

Using the towels always reminds me of Cheryl. The towels I use most often for myself were actually purchased at Macy’s after we shop lifted them on the way to Dillard’s a few years previous. It is a similar story except that she wanted to go to the mall to look for towels – I think it was for towels. I may have just talked her into going to this particular mall because it was inside and had easy access elevators to get to each level. Nevertheless we found a couple towels and I put them onto her walker and she wanted to keep shopping so we walked right out of Macy’s to Dillard’s. It was not until she could not find what she wanted at Dillard’s that I realized we had shoplifted the towels from Macy’s.

We paid for them on the way back through Macy’s to our car.

Whenever we went to Target for anything she would announce that we needed some new wash cloths. We bought several times the inexpensive ten-for-a-dollar packs of wash cloths. These would fray easily in the washing machine. Cheryl would sit in the evening and trim off the edges so they could fray faster.

I have lots of memories from these towels and wash cloths. The cheap ones I pitched out. They were clogging the lint trap in the washer and the screen in the dryer.

Carpe Diem.

The Bench is Back

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Wednesday as I rode my bike around my favorite path, the Lunken Airport loop, I noticed, was amazed and elated that the bench is back. This bench sits at the top of a paved path to a lot where many folks park their cars to walk or ride the loop around Lunken. The view is of the tarmac behind the old terminal that has been neglected by the city fathers and mothers on the council.

The bench disappeared for a while. I assumed falsely to be repaired. It looks no different. Perhaps someone stole this valuable piece of art and the parks department replaced it with another. (He thought, tongue in cheek.)

Cheryl and I often came here to eat at the Sky Galley restaurant in the terminal. It was a favorite of her mother when Elaine was alive. The bar was always full and the atmosphere was friendly. Private aircraft landed and the pilots and passengers stopped in to eat. The national guard guys would fly their helicopter over to train and get a bite to eat.

The Sky Galley is closed. The restroom facilities are part of the terminal building and not up to city code. Maybe there is another problem with a building – an art decco gem actually – that the city owns.

Riding around the loop I think of these things. Memories of bringing Cheryl and her mom here to eat. A couple times we met Elaine and Bob her for dinner when they were both alive. That was many years ago now. Those are all good memories.

It is sad that the city does not maintain gems such as this. Tempus fugit.

Carpe Diem.

A Story from Two Years Ago

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I wrote the following essay about two years ago. I put the first draft of my book about Cheryl and the last five or so years of her life together in the form of my web log essays and stories gleaned from there and my journals.

I am letting my book gel in my brain for a while and as I do this I occasionally reread an article that I wrote sometime ago. Cheryl often comes into my thoughts and explains her side of the story. It can be and often is a mystical experience.

Apathy and Living

Has she apathy? As we move forward it seems to me that she cares less about day to day activities. She seems to recede into her own thoughts but not as a prevailing occupation. I think of it as apathy-not-quite. When she gets in this mode it’s often temporary. She is tired from some activity.

Specifically activities like taking a shower, getting cleaned up, physical therapy sessions or exercise classes are obviously tiring for a PD sufferer. Something as easy as thinking about what is next seems to tire her out also. It like a temporary apathy. Procrastination?

It starts with, ” I don’t think I can go to… exercise class, church, physical therapy…” Admittedly it takes a lot for anyone to be motivated to exercise. It was not a big part of our lives when we were younger. Neither of us were sports buffs. My main sport is riding my bike. There is a solitude to doing that which I am unwilling to give up or share. As her care partner, it is frustrating for me that she cannot observe how much she is helped by exercise and her PT sessions. She seems to not remember. It seems like she is going merely because I am taking her there.

When Cheryl gets in this mode (mood?), I turn the corner to something else. I am resistant to letting her go on and isolate herself in her little office area thinking, punding and organizing. I take her out. Anywhere works as long as it is out of our condo.

Yesterday I took her one of our local county parks that we have not visited for a long time. Afterward we went for ice cream at a nearby Dairy Queen. I had planned to make dinner at home but she suggested we find barbecue somewhere. This being an odd suggestion because it seems to upset her stomach often and she says never again later in the evening. We did not find the barbecue place to be amenable to folks with mobility issues so we landed at one of our old favorites and ordered something different than we usually get so the newness was preserved. On the way home she thanked me for taking her to Lake Erie and she told me a story about when she was very young.

In the early days of her father running his own gas station which was a life long dream of his, he rarely took any vacation time. It seems one of his friends had a vacation cabin up near Lake Erie and not far from Port Clinton. There is a park nearby called East Harbor State Park. Our walk by the shore of a much smaller lake in the park much closer to home than Lake Erie must have taken her mentally back to her childhood and a very fond memory. We visited the same area a few years ago and visited East Harbor.

She talked at length about the trip with her mom and dad. She thanked me for getting her there and back in the same day.

I started this writing and contemplating apathy, but maybe it’s projective (mine) apathy? Or predictive apathy? Or apathy is the wrong word? (indifference? passivity?) Or is it poor sleeping patterns? This morning she got up at quarter til ten which means that she was in bed for about eleven hours. She awakened this morning from the same position she fell into when she got in bed. On the previous evening she went to bed very late after midnight and slept very little. (As a result I slept little also.)

Is apathy and memory related? I wonder about ideas like this. Perhaps she cannot remember that she seemed to enjoy herself the last time we went there? Wherever there is.

When I finally teased Cheryl awake this morning, she opened her eyes and asked, “Is Mary Pat here?” An amusing opening question about the day. I smiled and told her, ” No Mary Pat is not here. I think you were dreaming about her.” I have no idea where the Mary Pat (a childhood and current) friend thought came from but she has talked to her a couple times over the past few weeks.

I encourage her to talk to her friends when she gets excited about some memory or misconceived thought. Many of them have had strange conversations with her about things. I used to be embarrassed for her and, at first, discouraged these phone calls which she often decides to do later in the evening. But as I thought about it I decided that it was not my place to absorb or accept or become embarrassed for her. Her friends know her state of mind. They are wonderful people and she is blessed to have them as life long friends.

Focus, cognitive abilities, caring, likes and dislikes are all related to memory issues. Staying active, no matter how small that activity is, helps.

Carpe Diem. Written July, 2022

The picture is from the same time that summer. Parkinson Community Fitness had a luau party.

Carpe this Diem.

Music – Nostalgia and Healing

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Lately I have noticed how the residents at the Harbor at Bridgeway Pointe seem to perk up and take part in the music that gets played occasionally either as a part of Hospice care or BP’s effort to provide activities for them. Most residents have some physical inability to participate fully and yet they do their part. Music has this effect on everyone.

One day when I returned to my little condo I looked at our old stereo and drug the two plastic tubs of LPs that had made the cut to our new place from the old one. Once before Cheryl and had done this but it has been a few years now.

I have played several old albums during the past few evenings. We have quite a collection of stuff. She tended toward Johnny Mathias and the Four Tops. I tended toward the Iron Butterfly and the Doors but intermingled in the tubs with those are Carly Simon, Crosby Stills & Nash, Peter Paul & Mary and Linda Ronstadt (another parkie). Growing up in the late 60’s and married in the early 70’s, I was very tuned into the Vietnam War and the associated commotion that it stirred up in my generation. So, there are a lot of folk singers in the tubs.

Listening and not listening to Crosby, Stills and Nash this morning, Steven Stills started singing, ” Helplessly hoping her harlequin hovers nearby awaiting a word.” I quit working the quordle for a minute and listened carefully. The refrain, ” They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.” made me cry and think about Cheryl.

“Wordlessly watching he waits by the window and wonders at the emptiness inside.” – Steven Stills. 1969 Gold Hill Music Inc.

I needed a bit of nostalgia. This song and these words have a different meaning to me today. I will spend some time thinking about this today. I think Cheryl is getting close to the end and it breaks my heart. It is hard to find good in any of this situation.

Carpe the damn Diem and keep looking.

Dear Cheryl

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Today I came to visit and you are sleeping again. So, I think that I will sit with you for a bit in your room and write you this letter.

Yesterday was a busy day for you. The Hospice aide came to give you a bath, I came after lunch and we went outside to the garden to sit in the sun, Allison came to do your hair ( it looks good) and Mike came late afternoon to check your vitals and see how you are doing. You were busy with lots of stuff.

Today it looks like you’re worn out.

When I talked to you, you did not respond. I kissed you on the cheek and you did not stir. So, my conclusion is that you are very tired and I will not disturb you.

Robert Thomas called the other day. He is going to come and visit in early May. Our plan (his mostly) is to ride bikes a lot and see where we get to. I have ridden my bike a couple of times this week when the weather was good. Once around the loop in Winton to see if I could deal with the helmet and the dog collar around my neck. It seems okay but the neck collar pushes the helmet up in back so that it is hard to see forward. It is easy to see my front tire. Yesterday I went down to Lunken to see how high the river was. It has covered the bike path under the Beechmont bridge. The fence is covered up so it must be six or seven feet deep under the bridge.

This neck stretcher really restricts movement of my head. In the short periods when it is off and I gently turn my head, it hurts to turn it very far to the side. I think that when I get it off in a couple of weeks I will be glad to restart my chair yoga and balance exercises. I am looking forward to that.

Billie and Fran and I are going to meet for lunch next week. You might remember them from when I worked in Sharonville. Anyway we are Facebook friends and thought it would be good to have lunch together one day. Billie has had some recent health issues and so has her husband. I am interested to know if Fran is still doing her flea market thing and what else she’s been up to in her life.

I have not planned any activity today. I was watching the weather all week and today was supposed to be raining, overcast  and cool. My thought was to sit with you, so I am doing that. You however are sound asleep. They must have gotten you cleaned up and dressed this morning. Did you tell Jennifer that you were not interested in getting up today when she asked you? (My guess is yes. )

I have been here for more than an hour and it appears that you are not going to awaken. I will let you rest and come back later.

As I left the Harbor I talked to Tonya, the nurse supervisor. She told me that you did not take your medication today and that you were breathing oddly earlier and she had called Mike the hospice nurse. He will come in a little bit to check you.

I love you and missed your company today. I had hoped to sit and hold hands like we did yesterday. The sun is supposed to be back tomorrow, although, it will be a bit cooler. We can still go outside tomorrow. I will put your brown jacket on you to go into the garden.

Paul

Dear Cheryl

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Dear Cheryl,

It has been exactly four weeks since I have written to you. The days blend together, so, ever since you have moved to Bridgeway Pointe, I have kept a journal of how you appear to me, your moods, your alertness, my thoughts and other things. As I look through this log of information about the past few weeks I noted many things that have happened during the last four weeks.

A couple days after I wrote the last letter, I was enjoying the sunset with some of our neighbors and was a little more inebriated than I thought at the time and fell while getting up from my chair. I admit to myself that I was feeling a little sad when I came home from visiting you that day. I do not know why. You appeared frail and I noted that I cried when I first saw you that day. I suppose that was still with me when I returned home to make myself dinner. For whatever reason I give myself, I found the bottle of vodka that I had in the freezer and added a little sprite to it in a glass. ( I was out of tonic. ) It was sweeter than I like but I imagined watching the sun go down while I was waiting for the casserole I had put together cook in the oven. Two of our neighbors showed up to join me and all was well until I fell on my face. I must have knocked myself out because I have little memory of the incident until I was looking at a fireman who strongly suggested that I go to the hospital. I had no interest in doing that but I gave in and went anyway. Now I have this collar to wear that you see me in when I come to visit. And now I know what an annoying experience that must have been for you when you were taken to the hospital over the past several years. Although I was not hallucinating at night, sleeping was like trying to get forty winks in a busy elevator.

I went to the hospital on Thursday evening. I came back home on Sunday afternoon. Sleeping on Sunday night was wonderful. I made it to six hours before my bladder took me to the bathroom. All of our kids came to visit with me on Friday. Scott gave me a ride home on Sunday. Anna and David and Scott visited you and me that whole weekend. We have wonderful children.

On Monday I was a little stiff and wearing an old set of eyeglasses. I could see okay but not comfortable driving with my new neck apparel. Your sister, Nancy, offered to drive me over to Bridgeway Pointe so that is what happened on Monday, bloody Monday. About every other day of that week you were sleeping when I came and Nancy gave me a ride to visit another day and we rode you around the building that day. You were more alert and Nancy seemed pleased to do it.

On Monday March 25th I went to see Lauren, our PCP folk. Her office called me the Monday after I got home from the hospital to check on me and ask if I wanted to come in for a visit. I admitted to her that I felt a little sad that day and asked her if there was a grief counselor or psychologist I could talk to about me. I am not sure what I want to get out of such an encounter. Sometimes when I leave you to come home I feel an overwhelming sadness. I did that Thursday a few weeks ago. I thought to have several drinks. That was a normal, I suppose, and stupid reaction. I will have to be aware of that when it creeps up on me. Perhaps I should just call Joyce or your sister Nancy and talk about what I am feeling. I am unsure about how talking to a complete stranger or a group of complete strangers will help. Joyce asked me if it affected my manliness when I felt sad and teary-eyed with others around. I replied that it did not bother me so much but I wished that it would not happen. She pointed out to me that you are a very important person in my life and although you have not passed on from this Earth, in many ways you have passed on from me and that is always going to be hard on me. (I think it is not so hard on you because you seem off somewhere else most days when I come to visit.)

Anna had a party for Virginia’s Birthday. She is sweet sixteen now. Do you remember what a cute two year old she was? I spent David’s birthday in the hospital. I wished him a happy birthday when he came to visit me.

Britney called me on the phone one evening as I was driving home from kissing you good night. She said you had slid out of your wheelchair as they were getting you into bed for the evening. Are you having a harder time sitting up in that chair? Or were you in a hurry to get into bed? I remember when you were home with me sometimes you went to bed early and were in a hurry to get there.

On Easter Sunday when I came to visit, You asked me where I was going today. I told you that I was going to Anna’s house for the afternoon for a cookout. I noted this in my journal because of two things; your voice was very plain and understandable when you asked, it seemed to me to be a very lucid thought. After you asked me that, you said; good, I am going to stay here today. (I noted a small patch of lucidity.)

I took the seat cushion from your wheelchair home to clean it on April Fools Day. It needed it. I traded the other cushion from the kitchen chairs with you. The last time I washed it I had to chase the washer around the utility room. It was out of balance after the cushion had sucked up ten pounds of water from the wash cycle. This time I thought that I would just soak it in the utility sink. I put about six inches of hot water in it and added a little bleach to the water. (It looked like you may have leaked a little onto it one day.) After soaking overnight it had these vivid purplish stains on it. There must be some metal in whatever it is stuffed with. Bleach reacts with a couple different metals to produce a purplish stain. Its clean but it looks bad.

This situation we are in, as I watch you become more and more frail. And as I watch you lose more and more weight. This whole process makes me worry about losing the picture in my head of your lovely smile. I have made a new project for myself of making a collage of you and your smile. So far it is pretty good, I think. I printed it out for you here so you can see for yourself and judge. I do not have a copy of every picture. There are many. On the next page you can see what it looks like so far. I am still searching for one or two other pictures that I know I have but with the cleanup I have been doing around our house I have placed them in a safe place where they will not be lost. I have not found that place back yet.

I have learned many things over the past four weeks. Do not drink vodka if I am sad. Beer will make me get up for a trip to the toilet more often and the alcohol is more dilute.

Avoid overnight stays in a hospital.

I am not interested in puzzles. I tried to become interested after one of the trips to Bridgeway Pointe with your sister. (new hobby and all that…) I have had it partially assembled on the dining room table for about two and a half weeks. I am told that real puzzle workers do not leave them dissembled out for that long. All I can say is that I am not that interested.

I am interested in writing more. I have a loose collection of stories that I call a hitchhiker’s guide to parkinson. That is much like a puzzle to me. Fitting it together as a story and memoir of our last fifteen years or so is a goal. Whether I achieve it or not is up to me.

A total eclipse of the sun is a magnificent sight. I shall remember it forever.

My journal is becoming more than a log of you and how you are. Two days ago I felt that my sourdough starter was far enough along to use it to make a loaf. Over that day I came to visit with you three times while I was waiting for it to proof and develop. At the end of the day after dinner and I got the loaf out of the oven, I came back over to Bridgeway Pointe to visit you. This is what I wrote that night when I returned home: I use this book to write about Cheryl and how she is doing but tonight I was disappointed that she was already in bed. I suppose I could sit with her in the darkened room but I sat on the edge of the bed for a short time and held her hand. I kissed her good night and went home disappointed. — I wanted to sit with her like we used to do.

(In the evening, some nights I really miss just sitting with you – maybe we watch TV, maybe we just talk, maybe you beat me at Scrabble, maybe I read a book and you are sewing on some project.)

Cheryl that is all I have for now. I have tried to catch you up on all the doings that happened since last I wrote. Know always that I love you.

Paul

Carpe Diem

Pictures of Her Smile

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Lately I have struggled with the idea that this terrible disease of Parkinson has robbed Cheryl of her smile. To keep that smile present in my mind I have been collecting pictures, old and new, and assembling a collage of smiles.

I am not finished but this is it so far. I will revisit this posting every now and then as I find pictures back that I want to add.

Carpe Diem.

Lately I’ve Been Thinking

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I did a stupid thing (my word) and injured my neck. After a couple MRIs and a couple of days in hospital and two neurosurgeons consulting with each other the eventual result is wear this necklace (dog collar) for eight weeks and all will be well.

I have found that I am getting used to it. I can remove it to shave and as long as I keep that up, it is not terribly uncomfortable. But that is not what I intended to write about here.

Few people are satisfied with “I fell” as an explanation for my wearing this device. Most will not hesitate to get more details. Those are all people who know me and know Cheryl’s situation. I must have a group of good friends who are concerned with our well being. I am grateful for that concern. It is also something for which I have not learned to be thankful and say thanks often for the kindness and help. I have an explanation of course, my head is generally somewhere else these days but that does not excuse me from being thankful for the extra hands and help.

So, thanks to everyone in my life who has helped me the past few days. You know who you are. Thanks to others who did not need a full explanation of how I fell on my face. It is an embarrassment to me no matter how many times others tell me that things happen. It morphed into some of us old guys telling stories about how we screwed up and luckily did not kill ourselves in the process. – You think that was dumb, wait until you hear this one I did. – A good discussion was had by all.

Today Cheryl was very active and animated. A friend from church and my cousin-in-law came to visit her and then while we were chatting the music guy showed up to get the residents to sing along and drum with the music. It lifted my spirits for a bit.

Carpe Diem.

Cheryl is Alert

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Music is playing today. It  is Thursday. She is good. And that was earlier in the day. Sometimes when you least expect it. Life throws you a ringer. … two days later.

Today’s ringer is I fell on my face a couple of days ago and now I’m in the hospital. So I can’t really pay much attention to Cheryl’s health and well-being at this point in time. I have to keep track of my own health and well-being. 

It’s not quite the same thing as being on vacation where I’m always thinking about how she’s doing what she’s doing who’s visiting those sorts of things. 

While here I know who’s visiting because everybody that goes over to see her sends me a little text message. And also points out the fact that I need to take care of myself and get healed up. 

So here’s what happened. I was having a few drinks out on the front of the building. Me and a couple of my neighbors were watching the Sun come down. Drinking beer and vodka. We were enjoying the sunshine and they had distracted me from worrying about Cheryl. I probably drank too much vodka but that’s okay. I had been over to see Cheryl and Cheryl was actually doing pretty good that day.

Anyway when I got up, I guess I stumbled and fell on my face. So now I have a fracture in my neck that they want to fix. I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel any tingling. I don’t feel any nerve damage and the MRI doesn’t show any of that.  But Here I am sitting here in the hospital bed waiting for the surgical guys to find an operating room to fix me 

This is my happy face.

And then I suppose I’ll have this neck brace on my neck for a few weeks I imagine. 

So It’s time to relax. I must not worried about Cheryl worry about me. Cheryl’s in good hands Somebody’s over there with her all the time. And somebody like her sister or like her daughter or like her sons or friends. They all go visit her at different times. So she has plenty. Plenty of visitors and help So when you got lemons you have to make lemonade. 

This is a forced time out for me.

I am trying to not resist.

Carpe Diem.

Dear Cheryl

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Dear Cheryl,

You know of course that you are the love of my life, the place where I am home.  I do not say this to you often enough. I am writing it here so that you can read it often if you want.

This morning when I came to you to be home and see how you were doing, Jennifer told me that you had no interest in getting up so after the bathroom she helped you back to bed. This is where you were when I came. I kissed you and you ignored me.  You were deeply sleeping. I sat and watched you breathe for a few minutes, hoping you would stir. You did not, so, I kissed you again and told you that I would return later.

Here I am again. It is almost three pm and you are still lights out. I talked to Mike in the hallway outside of the Harbor. He told me that you were still sleeping and he had taken your vital signs. He made a little joke about this being one of those days when you are not participating. He is such a gentle nurse.

As I was ending my conversation with him, I met Rosie Doud. You know, Bill Doud’s sister? She is staying at Bridgeway Pointe.

Even though Mike said you were sleeping, I came to watch you breathe. Maybe you will awaken later when Linda and Regan come. Maybe not. Obviously you need to sleep today. I am glad you did not need to doze yesterday afternoon. We held hands and you told me about something but I did not understand all of your words.

Sleep some more and I will check on you after supper.

I love you.

Paul