What's the point of having dreams, if you lose it all?

What’s the point of having dreams, if you lose it all?

I asked myself that question over and over, from the time my husband was diagnosed in the moderate phase of young onset Alzheimer’s disease, through his decline and my own health decline from caregiving, until today.

Although, now, that question only pops up on days when the sadness and loss creep in.

Was it worth it? I was the breadwinner for 18 years. I was fortunate in that I succeeded in an affiliate role with a network marketing company whose workouts I had great results from and believed in. But, it was still a lot of work. We were the rags to riches, scared to confident, unskilled to skilled story that up until that time, we only dreamed about.

“Without a dream, the people perish.”

I dreamed a little bigger each time I met a goal. And then I worked for it. I traveled, built people skills, read, listened, learned. One of our big dreams was owning an acreage and land, a place to play, grow old, nourish friendships, and minister to people. And we were able to make that happen in 2014. I was building a dream studio space in that barn house on 52 acres, for creative retreats, because my dream included keeping my creative hobbies, as hobbies. I had purchased several sewing machines, had bolts of fabric to share, tools galore. Then, the diagnosis happened in 2020.

So, was it worth it? Should I have dreamed different dreams? Did I want to be the breadwinner? Not really. That wasn’t our plan when we got married, but that’s how it worked out.

And Yes, it was worth it, but it was also necessary. If you are a person of faith, I believe I can see God’s hands in all the decisions I made along the way, to become successful and not only take care of my family, but many others as well.

I spent 3 of the last 4 years in that dream home, taking care of my husband with young Alzheimer’s. Two of those years, I did all the outdoor tasks and indoor chores. I learned how to add oil to my UTV, jump the battery on the pickup, start the log splitter, cut trees, buy big mower and learn to drive it and so on. When we bought the acreage, we knew I would keep building my business, and my husband would take care of the outside chores and run errands to make it possible for me to work. But then, everything fell to me. Everything.

The last year in my dream home, I spent getting it ready to put on the market. Every waking hour, I had a task to get done.

We kept my husband home until the last 4 months of his life, when his disease made it unsafe for him to be at home. There was no financial assistance, no personal assistance, no government programs, no grants from Alzheimer’s organizations. I had to make the decision on my own, and I had write the check.

I paid $10,000 a month, up front, for my husband’s care those last 4 months. I wrote checks. Then, more medical needs arose, and those were in the thousands of dollars as well.

Were the big dreams worth it? Yes, they were. The dream you have, often comes in the form of some sort of financial thing….a new car, house, you name it. But, you will find out, it’s not really about that. Yes, it was wonderful to see our dreams come true. And because I had those dreams and worked hard to make them come true, I was able to stay in the house and take care of my husband just as long as possible, and only then sold it after he had passed.

It was traumatic, living through this part of my life journey, from the time before we knew what was really going on with my husband, through the diagnosis of young Alzheimers and his slow deterioration, until his passing.

But, getting back to the dream part, we had the finances to stay in our home as long as we needed. It could have been very different, and much more traumatic, if I had had to move during that time, instead of after.

Was it worth it? Yes. Did it take away the trauma? No, of course not. But, I’m glad that 18 years prior to that, I took a chance to build something different. That also ended abruptly just a year after my husband passed.

Dream big dreams. Dreams won’t make you happy, but I believe exist for a reason in your head. They have the power to make you do something out of the ordinary, to grow stronger, more skilled, more resilient.

It’s possible those things will all get stripped away, and you will have the opportunity to rest and reinvent yourself. That’s where I am now.

Anne Dovel Morris
Alzheimer spouse caregiver to widow to wife again.