The sad fate of my best friends.

I know a couple. Former longtime Alzheimer care-givers. Who may never recover. From the traumatic care-giving experience. They are still struggling. Five years in the aftermath. Their marriage. Of more than 30 years. Hanging by a thread. They have been ravaged. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. One has become an alcoholic. The stronger one has taken heroic measures. Trying to save the fragile relationship. He’s about to give up. And get on with life. Without his true love.  Can’t say that I blame him. It may be the only way to save himself. I imagine. All sorts of similar tragedies. Resulting. From the ruthless, unrelenting rigors of care-giving. Thank heavens. I’m one of the fortunate ones. I survived 13 years of care-giving. Stable. But it takes work. A dedication.  To getting extraordinary help. And getting on with life. Better that. Than what’s unfolding before my eyes. Watching the sad fate. Of my very best friends. --Jim Broede