The Charming Gentleman and Lovely Lady

I have met so many people over the years while working the front desk at our local YMCA. Some are very cordial, some are curt, some are funny, cheery, busy, fast-paced, slow-paced, nosy, and pleasant. I have laughed with them, cried with them but most importantly, I have made a relationship with them. I can count on one hand the members that I don't know or have not made a connection with. It's my job. It's what I do.

I write this because today I ran into several different families from our YMCA while I was grocery shopping. We stop. We say Hi. They share a story. I smile, laugh and continue shopping.

Until I saw him. A charming older gentleman that has stolen a piece of my heart. I haven't seen him in about 6 months and I fear that when I say hi to him, he will tell me some very sad news. I prepare my heart to hear the worst as I approach my friend and say Hi.

This charming gentleman is married to a lovely lady. He would bring her in on Saturday mornings and make sure that she is comfortable with where she is sitting, gets her a cup of coffee and assures her that he will be done working out in an hour. She smiles, opens her crossword puzzle and pretends to work on them. She smiles at me and I go and sit with her for just a moment and we talk about the weather, the members, but I must go back to the desk and she smiles again.

She anxiously awaits for him to come from the locker room, clean shaven, aftershave on and they hold hands as they walk out to the parking lot...

I know that there is something wrong. I know that behind that smile there is some pain and hurt and confusion and wonder. She has Alzheimer's. Period.

I anticipate seeing her on Saturdays and she continues to smile but she doesn't remember what we spoke of last week. Her sadness is showing more on his face.


So there we stand in the produce department at Meijer. I walk over and ask if he remembers me. He does. His eyes are still piercing blue but sad doesn't even describe what I see. I ask him how he is doing and he asks how work at the Y is going and wonders what my hours are now at the front desk. Our small talk takes a turn when I ask how his lovely lady is doing. As he breathes in and exhales a deep sigh, he says that she is still at home but far worse than she was the last time they were at the YMCA.

He wants to keep her at home as long as he can. He cannot leave her alone. He says that their kids miss their mom. He tells me that she doesn't remember the grand kids. He'd love to get back to the Y but cannot leave her alone. He is thinking of getting a babysitter. He used to take her to daily daycare. He's not afraid of her wandering away but is afraid she may get hurt. He wants to take care of her. He has become used to talking through her...

He tells me that she doesn't know him.

I cry. I am so sad. He tells me that the one part of this whole disease that he hates most is that she was never an angry wife. She never got mad at him or as he said, "she never voiced it before" and now, now that is what she voices the most. His lovely lady is now angry.

I cannot seem to control my tears and he consoles me. I apologize because I think of my husband and for a brief moment I pray that this NEVER happens to us. I will not allow myself to imagine not knowing the love of my life or he not knowing me. It would be devastating.

As we part in the produce section, I ask him if I can give him a hug. He says yes and I hold on for just a second longer. I pray for peace.

My stomach has been in a knot most of the day. I am thankful that I put the groceries away and did my chores around the house. But my thoughts and prayers are with the charming gentleman and lovely lady.