Today, as I held Anthony’s hand in mine, he kept on bringing my hand slowly up to his mouth, then kissing it. This happened over and over and over again until it became hilarious for both of us.
Me: You are melting my heart, Ants!
Anthony: That’s as it should be.
Me: We never used to hold hands in the old days – it’s kind of weird – and I am getting a bit irritated. Sorry!
Anthony: Your hands are in bad shape. Mine have things on them [pointing to one of his thumbs and a finger where I could see nothing wrong].
Me: Does it hurt?
Anthony: No it’s wonderful.
Me: Oh, okay I think I get it. Well, you’re lucky – one hot day and I have the rotten blisters back [I developed a strange condition a few years back whereby perspiration causes this thing called pompholyx].
Anthony: You need to stop scratching them.
Me: Yeah, but it’s so itchy! Anyway stop telling me what to do. You’re lucky you have such wonderful hands.
Anthony: Yes, I do, don’t I.
Okay, so the above conversation was at around noon, then I met a friend for coffee. I got back to Anthony at around 2pm. The hand holding resumed but the conversation did a bit of a U-turn in the cul-de-sac of Anthony’s dementia. Instead of kissing my hand, he kept removing it from his and placing it very neatly onto the side of my chair.
Me: Why are you rejecting me?
Anthony: It’s in the way. Jules, can you take these off? [He raised his hands, palms-up to me.]
Me: So you want me to take your hands off?
Anthony: Yes!
Me: But why? I can’t remove your hands, even if I wanted to, Ants.
Anthony: They’re in the way.
Me: In the way of what?
Anthony: That boy.
Me: You mean, Ming, our son?
Anthony: Yes, that’s the one. Can he take these [again, offering his hands up]. They could join those two little sheds into one.
Me: I think that’s a fantastic idea, Ants and we should tell Ming as soon as possible. He and I already know what a fantastic farmer you are. Thank you!
Anthony: So when are we going home?
The wish to come/go home has, unfortunately, become a frequent topic of conversation lately, after about a year of Anthony forgetting all about this beautiful farm. I hate the moments of slicing lucidity in which he says to me that he wants to be back at home; I hate bluffing and promising this impossibility; and I hate my deception of course!
Anthony’s immobility, and other issues, make it impossible for me to bring him home, even for a couple of hours. I can’t lift him at all any more; he often requires two carers and a hoist.
He is, however, the most uncomplaining, resilient, beautiful person I will ever know and I am so proud that Ming has these attributes too.
Quite handy!
jmgoyder 
You have said it all, I have nothing to add.
i love your stories. you are doing all the right things, better than arguing or upsetting him, it seems you have chosen the kinder route to go. )
Your posts are such a roller coaster of delight, agony, hilarity, and insight. I so wish your dad wa here to share my pride in you. Xx
Such a beautiful touching encounter Jules. Thank you for wrapping me up in your hands of love.
Hugs Jules!
I wish you were teaching the world Julie.
I think we both are actually!
Sounds like he is courting you Julie 🙂
I love your love for each other…
Gotta “hand” it to you – a very touching post and easy to “grasp.” I couldn’t put my “finger” on it, but you both have so much love for each other and that’s the part that is so beautiful. It’s just hard to come to “grips” with what’s ahead.
Oh my god, these are the worst puns ever!
BEST puns Judy!
Sweet post. 💜❤️💙
I remember my mother asking me to fetch her friend to take her head. It seemed really important to her. And I, like you, prevaricated until her thoughts moved on a few days later. You are so patient and kind.
Hands up for all of you 👐