Changing Thoughts

I visited my husband yesterday at the nursing facility. It is too easy to get caught up in the flow of negative imagination: “Oh, what if he had stopped smoking years earlier?”; “What if I had been more attentive to him before this happened?”; “What if? What if? What if?” I have to stop myself. These trains of thought do no one any good, and I know Alan would never have stopped smoking if the doctors had said he shouldn’t smoke at least until he healed up from his pneumonia, and if I had decided to stop enabling him by bringing him cigarettes. He’s clean two months now, and maybe his dementia helps the situation, because he does not always remember to ask me for them, but he also forgets that I have told him I am not enabling that old habit any more.

Stepping Into The Day

It’s been a while since I’ve written. It’s been a full summer, with many hours of my day going to the self-care of exercise in order to keep losing weight. I’m down thirty-some pounds since a year ago at this time, when the blood sugar and the diabetes were getting a bit out of control. There is nothing like the fear of breaking down a strong body, which I’ve always taken for granted, and perhaps blindness, to jump on the self-care bandwagon.