I will never be an elder-caregiver again.

[Girard442]

57. My late wife was a quadriplegic during our 27-year marriage. I was her primary caregiver.

I married her mindfully and would do it all over again, but no one has to explain to you that care-giving is not a HallMark Hall of Fame movie.

She passed from a progressive stroke after several weeks in hospital. Progressive strokes are brutal. At first the patient rallies and seems to be on the way to a full recovery, but then with each event, slips further and further downhill.

I sought psychiatric care immediately after she passed because I knew from hard experience, that having been in crisis mode, running on adrenaline for several weeks and then suddenly nothing is happening anymore would lead to a total crash. It would have without the crutch of antidepressants.

I was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other for a couple of months and was finally able to venture out into the world again. Not to date, but just to be among people.

Everything you say sounds so familiar. On my darkest days, I'd think about my ancestors, in an unbroken chain stretching way back into prehistory and beyond. If they managed to get through times like this, maybe I could too.

Things will get better. That's not a pious platitude. It's just true.

L'Chaim