When I was younger and Dick was healthy, we thought we were the masters of our fate.  How utterly naive!  We planned to continue the traveling that we started at a young age --- oh, the places we would see!  Because we were both teachers, we always had those glorious weeks at Christmas, Easter, and summer breaks.  We long ago decided to take advantage of our free time by filling it with travel with our children, friends and family --- trips to Mammoth each winter for skiing, camping  in the spring and trips to the South Pacific, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Europe --- etc. during the summer.  When the nest emptied, we moved on to adventure travel -- the Amazon, Galapagos, Easter Island, Central America, Africa, Peru, etc.  And, of course, when our jobs ended, we planned more -- much, much more.  Do you think we ever once thought that our plans might not pan out?  Seriously, I think not.  Our travel buddies are currently on a fifty-seven day trip in Africa, a trip we most definitely would have shared had Dick not been stricken with Alzheimer's.  Life is funny that way --- while we have our health, we believe we will always have it. That belief has allows us to eat movie popcorn ( buttered, of course!) and use our treadmills to dry clothes -- at least that's true of me.  Oh, we may lightly entertain the idea of problems, but for the most part, I really think we live our days as though they were not finite, as if we would go on forever and could follow our lofty dreams.  I most certainly did.  And that's why this new life I am living is still shocking to me, even after so many years.  I went kayaking around Balboa Island on one of my days off this week.  It was my first solo kayak experience and I could not help but think of the trips I had shared with Dick --- especially the times we paddled across the most aqua blue waters of Lake Louise or out to see the orcas along the shores of San Juan Island.  And that, of course, got me to thinking about all of the experiences I will never share with him again.  I makes me sad --- I don't want to adjust. 

These days, a good day for us is just one of happy moods -- if we're lucky --- and walks around the park.  Dick loves to feed the birds and I love to see him happy.  It doesn't take much on my part --- blowing a kiss, singing a silly song in his ear, massaging his dry hands with the latest best lotion, giving him a hug, attending to him, taking him out for a meal, answering his seemingly never-ending question in a happy tone of voice --- all little things. We don't look forward much anymore, and we certainly do not take our health or our future for granted.  For now,  I want to make my husband happy, and yet at the same time, I yearn for the realization of our not to be dreams.  Can't help it.....