I am so excited to grow old with Conrad. Ok — not excited to “grow old,” but if I have to do it, I have found my life witness and partner to do it with, and that is an awesome feeling. Being here, alone, only reinforces that feeling — especially when I find myself suddenly wide a-freaking-wake at 4am. Why? Because he is on a shopping errand buying a new-baby gift for me (from us) and they don’t have what I told him to get and he wishes he could call me. See … we’re still hard-wired and close, even though we’re like some-thousand-odd miles apart.
I still point and get that little teary-eyed grin when I see a wrinkly, old couple walking hand-in-hand down the street and hope someday Conrad and I will have achieved that — that indelible mark of battle-tested, machine-washable lifetime achievement. I don’t know what a lifetime of love like that feels like, but I do know what it looks like.
That is why tears were rolling unabashedly down my cheeks at breakfast in the lobby this morning. Former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor’s husband has Alzheimers. And he’s got a girlfriend. And Justice O’Connor thinks it’s great … because he’s happy.
Wow. Mark my words — that will either show up in Hollywood or the Hallmark channel.
The New York Times did a good job with this one — we are well indoctrinated to “new love” — that heart-pounding, roller-coaster ride of teenage love and angst. But what is old love like?
You can read the full story here: Still many-splendored love in the time of Dementia.
I don’t know what I would do if in that situation, I don’t know if anyone could unless they’re there. But it certainly made me think more about old love and what it could have in store. Still, despite the bumps and the unknown road ahead, I am so happy to be out on that drive, and happy I have a navigator sitting right there beside me.
Oh.
Right. You can drive honey, I’ll stay in the co-pilot’s seat 
All posts
