What is love?

I guess I'm asking, what is love? I'm suggesting that the mere statement, "I love you," is not enough. I'm suggesting that in some ways love is not love until it's unconditional. It's that for better or for worse thing. Just because one's spouse has Alzheimer's is no reason to stop loving him/her. In fact, it's even more reason to love. And what about the edict to love one's enemy? That's a pretty tough thing to do. How does one achieve love of one's enemy? What must one do to get there? I guess I'm suggesting that we humans tend to not love enough. And if that's the case, does it stop short of pure or unconditional love? Is it all right to put qualifications and conditions on love and still call it love? I always question whether I've loved enough. In most instances, my answer would be, no I haven't. Yes, it's quite possible I've loved to some significant degree, but, let's say, in the eyes of god, it still comes up short. I rather suspect that the overwhelming majority of us have never loved anyone unconditionally. To the point where we would even give up our lives for our "loved" one. --Jim

I want to believe in the impossible.

If one is truly in love with another, it makes life tolerable. One can have a lot go wrong in one’s life, and still be happy. By falling back on one’s love connection. In my case, with Jeanne. Something awful could happen in my job, or in some other aspect of my life. But if I had Jeanne to console me, if I had someone to love, that would pull me through. The love connection was always my sustenance. My refuge of last resort. And the same for Jeanne. Jeanne could fall back on me. I would console Jeanne. Jeanne is what made me feel not alone. And I, in turn, tried to make Jeanne feel not alone. In other words, we were kindred and loving spirits. To be there for each other. In the toughest of times. If Jeanne and I ever felt harshly about each other, if we were maybe falling out of love, we didn’t let it happen. We reconciled. And it took time for a sort of unconditional love to evolve. It took shared experiences. The kind of experiences that are cumulative – that require time. The more time we had together, the deeper the love. Love is far, far from an in instantaneous thing. One can’t eliminate the time element. When Jeanne and I got married, we might have said we were in love. But that’s all it was. An empty saying. Maybe even now that’s all it is. But all I know is that it’s much, much more than what it was 40 years ago. It was relatively shallow love then. And maybe if we had another 40 years together, we’d look back and say it was still shallow. I’m of the notion that there’s a spiritual dimension. A spirit world. I want to meet up with Jeanne again. In a place where there’s an intermingling of our spirits. A blending of our souls. A forever-ness. I want to settle for nothing less. I want it all. Everlasting love. That’s what makes me a romantic. An idealist. I want to believe in the impossible. --Jim

DiDi's husband will be better for it. And so will she.

The woman’s name is DiDi. And she’s a darn good care-giver. She’s been caring for her husband for years. More or less full-time. But DiDi may be reaching a breaking point.

Here’s what she had to say on the Alzheimer’s message board today:

“DH (dear husband) went to bed without me. He never does that, but I think the time change confused him. Today for the first time I had feelings of not being able to do this, not being able to see it through to the end. I have never thought this way before. I trust so fiercely in God, and the knowledge that he is in control, and has a plan; but this is so hard. I fight back tears almost everyday, and feel so much grief. I try so hard to stay upbeat for him, but each day he pulls me down. He is so sad, and angry. It's not that we sit here all day and feel gloomy. I keep him busy daily with things he used to enjoy, but nothing seems to ever be enough. I keep looking for answers, a better way, a solution, but there just doesn't seem to be one. I don't even know where I am going with this post. Maybe I should just go to bed. Tomorrow is another day.”

Well, I couldn’t leave this one alone. I had to comment. Because I feel DiDi’s pain. I went through similar agony, too.

Yes, DiDi, sometimes it gets to be too much. You've held up well to this point. I take it you are pretty much 24/7. But when you go at it year after year, and when your husband declines, it gets harder and harder and harder. Quite possibly you will reach a breaking point. And that's no shame. It happens. You can only do so much. Endure so much. It's quite possible that you'll have to place your husband some day. Soon. I had to do it with Jeanne. Those last 38 months. But I didn't abandon Jeanne. And there's no need for you to abandon your husband. You just need help in caring for him. You can still be with him. Daily. But you need to start getting breaks. Respite. Preferably on a daily basis. Don't wear yourself out to the point that you break down. Sounds to me like you've done an admirable job. Up to this point. Now you may have to consider alternatives. Like placement. Instead of 24 hours a day with husband, maybe you'll have to settle for 8-10 hours. That's still lots of time. Quality time. And it'll be a picnic compared to 24/7. And your husband will be better for it. And so will you. –Jim Broede

...to focus on the wonderful aspects of life.

Life is filled with ups and downs. In my case, far more ups than downs. That keeps me going. And I create a world – maybe an imaginary world – which I’d call a world of uppers. I create a world that makes sense. A world that I can believe in. A world filled with the notion of love. Unconditional love. And it works. It makes me happy. If I’m in a downer, I find a way to refocus. On things that buoy my morale. My spirit. Maybe it’s just going for a walk along the lakeshore or in the woods. I put on 10 miles a day. Or 300 miles in a month. Or maybe it’s communing with god. Or with Jeanne in a spirit world. Or maybe it’s watching the Cubs play baseball. Or maybe it’s playing with my dear cats Lover Boy and Little Black Lady. For years, it was being a loving care-giver for my beloved Jeanne. Oh, so many, many ways to focus on the wonderful aspects of life. –Jim Broede

...the greatest stress-reliever of all.

I tried to create a virtually stress-free environment for Jeanne. And in so doing, I more or less relieved my stress. It’s a little like loving someone. When one exudes love, it’s usually reciprocated. Creates a good feeling. Seems to me that to be relatively stress-free, one must be rested. When I’m tired and stretched thin, I’m more prone to stress. Physical and mental stress. When I’m rested, I tend to be in a good mood. Happy. And I try to live in slow motion. I don’t like to rush. Before I retired, I wrote for newspapers. And I had deadlines. Especially for breaking news. The adrenaline flowed. Which is all right, if you’re enjoying yourself. But as I got older, I began to think that writing in a hurry was nonsense. Now I can take my time. And write pretty much as I please. Without trying to please an editor. Instead, I please myself. I feel more free. And freedom – well, that’s a great reliever of stress. Oh, and I have addictions. But positive ones. I’m addicted to exercise. I need vigorous exercise. Daily. It relieves stress. And I like to work in the outdoors. Gardening. Another great reliever of stress. And I’m addicted to writing. I have to write every day. It stimulates my mind and, of course, it relieves stress. Meanwhile, I try to avoid negative addictions. I’ve never smoked, other than secondhand smoke. I’ve never had a desire to smoke. I have an occasional beer. With a meal. And, oh yes, I’m addicted to love. I find it necessary to be in love all the time. With somebody or something. Currently, I’m in love with Jeanne. With Jeanne’s spirit, that is. That’s the greatest stress reliever of all. --Jim Broede

I know the sadness will pass. Always has.

I think we all have full lives. We all have 24-hour days. And 7-day weeks. I’m retired, technically speaking. But I see myself as busier than ever. More active than ever. And maybe even more fulfilled than ever. By that, I mean I feel more alive. More with it. Maybe because I’m learning to live in the moment. To savor so many little things. To appreciate being alive. To reflect. And to tell myself, hey, this ain’t a bad life. Living is good. And yes, there are a hundred million things I’d like to do with my life, with the remaining years. But I can’t do it all. But that’s the wonderful thing. I’m able to pick and choose. Instead of lamenting about what I can’t get around to, I rejoice because I have so many, many choices. The important thing is that I can be me. And the more I am me, the better I feel. The happier I am. And I am as busy as any of you. Wonderfully busy. Even when I go to sleep, I am busy. I’m thinking. Wonderful thoughts. And sometimes I dream, wonderful thoughts. And when I first wake in the morning, I resume thinking. Wonderful thoughts. And even when I’m sad, I feel a bit wonderful. Because I know the sadness will pass. Always has. --Jim Broede

Or would you change me? And if so, in what way?

I wrote the words that follow to one person. Posing significant questions. But the more I stopped to ponder and really think about it, I sort of mean it as an open letter to humanity. To my fellow beings. So, here, after just a little bit of minor editing, is what I had to say.

My dear friends and fellow human beings:

You know, I love sharing thoughts. With the handful of people I like. Thoughts make the world go round. I like to share my joy. My happiness. Much more than my sadness. For instance, I love sharing Jeanne. Always will. Because Jeanne has become a vital part of me. Forever. I guess I don't mind sharing Jeanne. And sharing a handful of close friends. Friends that are a good influence on me. And I hope it goes the other way, too. That I am a good influence on my friends. My life, or so it seems to me, is sort of like living in a novel. A story that keeps unfolding. Daily. A new chapter every day. And mainly, I see happiness. By turning to the likes of my few friends. Did you know that you are a big source of my happiness, dear friends? And I have this compulsion to tell the world about it. And tell each of you about it. Directly. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I walk naked in this world. And I'm not ashamed of it. Not afraid or embarrassed to be naked. Because it shows me who I am. And others, too. Lots of people don't like what they see. Which is unfortunate. But a handful have learned to accept me as I am. I think that includes my friends. I don't know. I'll find out in time. I want you to know, dear friends, that I can accept you as you are. Can you do that with me? Or would you change me? And if so, in what way? --Jim Broede