Our Valley Santa Clarita November/December 2016 | Page 12

Willa’s World

I

What Day is It?

A Daily Question in Our Walk
with Alzheimer’s disease!
By Willa Robinson

’m trying my best to get rid of

friend. I could talk to my husband

the intense anger I have about

about anything. Vernon’s jokes

this disease called Alzheimer’s.

would have me laughing so hard I

I’m angry because I just don’t

would nearly pee myself. I miss the

want it to be so. This season

person who would always give me

in our life, nearly 52 years of

a well-thought-out opinion, that I

marriage, I want our lives to be full

had not considered, on a situation

of adventure.

I was encountering. I yearn for the

I’m annoyed because I’m tired of

man who was my number one

answering the same questions

supporter.

over and over again, or repeating

I’m enraged because I am now

the same answer over and over

the chauffeur and I have to do

again. I don’t care if the wind is

all of the driving whenever and

now blowing and Vernon has

wherever we to go. Vernon is angry

mentioned it six times in the last

because the doctor has advised us

half hour.

that he should no longer drive. It

I’m upset because, yes, today is

is dangerous for him and others.

Tuesday and he has already taken

February 2016 was the last time he

Tuesday’s medication yesterday.

was behind the wheel, and he was

I’m infuriated because it’s 99

missing for a day and a half. Now

degrees outside and he ha s put on

and then he asks, “Where is the

a wool sweater to wear today.

DMV book so I can study for the

I’m mad because this vicious

driver’s test?” Just the other day he

disease is robbing me of my best

said, “What do you think about us
saving money so we can buy me a

12

car?”

Not only am I the chauffeur,
but I have to do everything. I’m
overwhelmed. My husband had
retired about ten years before I
retired from my corporate job.
He made up the bed, washed
the dishes, cooked an awesome
breakfast, made a delicious pot of
soup, or beans, or greens, chicken
and egg noodles, and his barbecue
ribs were the bomb. Most of all,
he would make my very favorite,
popcorn. We have a special pot
that’s about 35+ years old, maybe
longer. The handle is about to
fall off, but he would cook that
popcorn on top of the stove, you
could hear it popping throughout
the house. Sometimes I would get