jmgoyder

When Anthony suddenly transformed from a macho machine into a rose-buying romantic all those years ago, it was a massive shock to me. As a macho machine, he was never demonstrative or loving or generous and I was so used to this that the ‘new’ Anthony took a bit of getting used to.  In the nearly 20 years since we’ve been married he has given me the most beautiful gifts: pearls (a few strings), silver bangles (around 20), expensive perfume, a carriage clock, an Omega watch, a couple of other watches, an antique lithograph (well he had wanted this himself), my first ever electronic organizer, my first laptop, a min-tv for my office, a beautifully framed picture of me at my graduation, two antique cameo broaches and the list goes on. Most of these were surprises but over the last few years, since he became too ill with PD to drive, he would tell me to go and buy my own Christmas and birthday presents with instructions like “Go and buy yourself a nice frock” which is ludicrous of course since I haven’t worn a dress since I was around five years old so I would come home with expensive jeans or boots instead! It wasn’t as magical to have to choose my own presents but after a year or so I began to look forward to this. I would ring him from whatever shop and tell him I was trying to choose between this bangle and that bangle and he would always say, “Get the best one, Jules.” So I would!

Don’t get me wrong. When the dairy industry was thriving and I was working, we were comfortably off, but not wealthy and Anthony, having always been extremely scroogy careful with money, continued to astound me with his birthday and Christmas gifts to me. But perhaps the best and most extraordinary gift was his ability to say “I love you, Jules.” The first time he said this, a few seconds before he proposed marriage, I laughed because I thought he was joking. For him the word ‘love’ was a definite taboo and whenever I had used it on him he had shrugged and grinned, but never reciprocated. Since the first time he said these words, he has said them every single day of our marriage and they have not lost their power.

Lately, love has become the main topic of conversation for him. When I am in the nursing lodge, or he is on a visit home, or on the phone, he talks about this big love we have for each other and his eyes smile even though his mouth can’t. He loves talking about love, so much so that I sometimes say, “Yeah, okay, I get it!”

After months of rather mopey misery on his part, Anthony seems to have finally accepted what is, so when I see him, his eyes light up, and he almost yells, “Jules!” He does this on the phone too and seems to have stopped begging me for the impossible – to bring him home to stay. Our conversations are lighter. Of course the confusion and disorientation of PDD is still there but this love-talk seems to bypass that and now, when I leave the nursing lodge, I say goodbye with a smile because I know he knows that I am in love with him too.

A few years ago