I am feeling sorry for myself again. The dreams he had and the dreams we both had are no longer realistic. Multiple Sclerosis has changed our lives and our dreams. Those dreams are my ball and chain.

Hubby began composing, playing guitar and singing since he was sixteen years old. He was the lead in two bands. In 1969, they were excited about auditioning with a music executive in the Catskills. It was not meant to be. They were returning home from a gig and were about fifteen miles from home when a drunk driver (a doctor) hit them head-on. Hubby’s friend, Chris, died. Hubby was injured. The band dissolved after that. That doctor later died in prison. This happened one week before Woodstock. The surviving members decided to catch that “free concert” in Woodstock. They left notes for their parents since they were all sixteen years old at the time. They managed to drive half-way there when someone yelled out, “the New York Thru-way’s closed, Man”. They returned home, their parents none the wiser.

Over the years, Hubby continued to compose and play and even front a new band. He left for college in 1970, received his degree and eventually began working at Grumman. We dated briefly long distance in 1976, but he chose to marry the local girl. Months later, I met the man who would become my first husband and the father of my wonderful son.

My first husband died in 1992. I reconnected with my first love in 2009. Again, we were long distance. We would fly back and forth and video chat every day, twice a day. When I was sick, he serenaded me. We connected on a different level as older folks. He had finally settled down and I grew into myself. I became a stronger woman. Funny thing is, I was so angry over the death of Roger. I was angry for years. Hubby was angry over his marriage ending after so many years together. Once we reconnected, I was so happy! He told me one day that his kids said he was a little less angry. I told him he was a LOT less angry. He laughed.

We went through Pop’s death and Hubby’s cancer together and long distance. Our relationship became that nice, warm blanket. We were so much in love (if we ever fell out of love), but felt as if we had always been together.

We married in 2016. In 2018, symptoms began which we initially blamed on age. A few months later, Doc asked him to walk for him. He then immediately set us up with an MS specialist and ordered a brain MRI. The lumbar puncture didn’t come until November 2020 due to Covid and a little denial. Just after Christmas 2020, MS was confirmed. In the span of two years he has gone from walking unaided to using a walking stick, rollator, manual wheelchair and now a power wheelchair. He can no longer transfer unassisted.

His hands have no fine touch and balancing food on a fork is difficult. Sometimes I need to cut his food for him. He cannot sit upright. I thank God he has his mind, though he sometimes has cog fog.

His method of composing was to play a tune on the guitar, with the lyrics coming later. It seems he has a few songs in his head, but we have not yet figured out how to adapt so he can compose. Writing things down is another painful issue.

I know I need to let go of the dreams we had just four years ago. We need to discover new dreams. Life has changed on a dime. It’s not fair to either of us, but I need to let go of what I believed our life together should have been. Until I do, that ball and chain will just drag me down and make us both miserable. I love him so much.

Here’s to better days, but Multiple Sclerosis is still evil.