As a caregiver, I travel to new jobs frequently. This time I was on Camino Island. The house has a wonderful view sitting high over the water, just a few blocks up from the shoreline.
Gale, Vivian’s husband, suffers from Alzheimer’s. He loves his wife and doesn’t forget to tap on her door at every opportunity to say, “I love you, honey. Honey, I love you.”
With the frequency of this, Vivian sometimes get upset. “Darn it to tarnation, I was just asleep.” But most of the time she sweetly answers, “I love you too.”
My job is to work two days and sleep on a cot one night. Sometimes I am there three days and sleep two nights and take care of their every need.
In my first morning, after arriving with warm sunshine on my face, seeing diamonds flickering off the water. I settled in, and prepare breakfast for both of them at a table positioned in front of a glass sliding door that has a breathtaking view of Puget Sound. They sit down and enjoy the activities on the water or watch people stroll down the street. They enjoy this time daily at every meal.
This morning a darling dog bounces onto the deck, tail wiggling and tongue hanging out to grab a breath of air. Happy as can be, this dog looks directly at Vivian then paws the deck, her head going up and down as if it is a bobble head. So adorable. I figure it was an ongoing daily visit. I am wrong.
Vivian is enchanted. She laughs, puts her delicate hands together and playfully talked to the dog through the door. It seems they are meant to be together. I can’t let this darling dog in. Vivian stays a long time at the table and enjoys the furry company.
When she tires, she gently puts her hand against the window to say good bye. I walk her back to her bed. The dog leaves. Vivian mentions she has never seen the dog before. She has no idea where it comes from or where it belongs.
Right after my last shift, things change. The dog stays away and Vivian and Gale are moved into a home, separated, sadly. This happens right after my last day being there. It’s as if the dog was saying goodbye, and wanted Vivian to remember a happy time.
I will always think of the joy this mutt gave an ill, elderly lovely lady. Vivian’s heart was very bad, but big with love.