Singing Walls and Dementia
When I started this blog, I wanted to fill it full of stories of people who overcame chump heartbreak and went on to gain better lives. So, I asked the mightiest person I knew — my Aunt Joy — to share her story. She gave us The Walls In Your House Will Sing, her inspiring tale of divorce, reinvention, and remarriage.
Over the years it’s thrilled me to see “my walls sing!” reports from CN. (My Aunt Joy is the original badass. When I went through my D-days, she drove down from upstate New York to pack my cheater’s shit in boxes and hauled them to the garage. God bless her.)
If you ever read her story, you’ll know that nearly 40 years ago, she found love and married her high school sweetheart, Matt, who was a fellow chump. (His ex-wife ran away with their priest. My grandmother suggested that perhaps my aunt could offer some words of support. The rest is history, as they say.)
My uncle Matt was a wonderful man. A loving father and husband, a spoiler of dogs, a model railroad enthusiast, a generous host, a quick and wry wit. I’m using the past tense so you might guess where I’m going with this — he has dementia. The Matt we all knew, but still love, has been fading away for about nine years. For seven of those years, and throughout a pandemic, my aunt was his sole caregiver.
Over a year ago, as she approached 80, she had to make the hard decision to put him in a care home. I cannot imagine the burdens of caregiving someone with dementia. It’s like a slow-rolling death. The man she’s loved is gone. A few years ago she told me what she missed the most was conversations. There was no one to share life’s little intimacies with. It got to a point where Matt couldn’t follow what you said. And then it got to a point where he couldn’t talk at all. Or recognize anyone.
I’ve been thinking about my aunt and Matt this week, for a couple reasons. First, Matt has taken a turn for the worse. Let’s just put it this way — the bodily functions are failing. And he’s agitated and lashing out and there’s a long wait for skilled nursing care. All my aunt can do is cry and continue to show up. And do hard thing after hard thing after hard thing. After a long road of doing hard things.
Which brings me to my second point — she shows up.
Her devotion is unquestioned. I’m sure over the years she’s faulted herself and not felt adequate to the task. But there is no part of her that would not do this. It’s how she is wired. She loves with her whole goddamn heart.
So fuck Dan Savage and “transactional” love. For many years, my aunt had reciprocal, devoted love from Matt. And then there came a day when the calculus changed. Where she was not going to get a return on her investment. She would have to give without getting, because the person she loved was vulnerable and failing.
She hasn’t run off with a priest. She hasn’t run off, period. She shows up and does the hard things. Because that’s who she is. Just like you folks in Chump Nation. Sane parenting alone. Showing up for disabled kids and aging parents. Supporting the newly chumped. Being solid friends. Loving with your whole goddamn hearts.
So your Friday Challenge is to send my Aunt Joy some words of support. And let her know how your walls sing. She could use some cheering up about now, and I know just the right people for the job.
TGIF.
Blessings upon Joy and Blessings upon Matt. And to everyone who Matt and Joy love. And to everyone who loves Joy and Matt.
I have cared for and nursed both my parents through cancer, strokes, paralysis and death. But taking care of and losing a beloved spouse with dementia is devastating. I pray for Joy to receive and strength and stamina. And comfort and consolation.
Amen.
Dearest Aunt Joy, may peace and love be with you always and especially in this current time of need. All of CN supports you and sends positive energy to you and Matt (and CL) as you face the hardest of times. ((((HUGS))))
Your Aunt is an angel, anyone who is a caregiver is showing unconditional love. I just watched it happen with my own father, as he was sent home on hospice and my brother and mother took care of him 24/7. He died within 24 hours after I arrived to help, but I was in it for the long run too. He wasn’t a nice man, sometimes abusive, but he was our dad, and we didn’t abandon him when he needed us. It’s what families do. Your Aunt won’t regret taking care of her husband, she will be rewarded.
Having done the end of life care for 3 beloved elders, including 15 years with one with dementia, I say “Bravo” to your Aunt Joy! It’s a tough road, but now, 10 years later, I am still proud, and grateful that I chose to do this. Not everyone can! Do take care of yourself. I found the book “ the 36 hour day” was a blessing and read it many times. I also gave many copies of it away. I know your Aunt Joy is a strong person with much love to give and receive. I send my love to her!
Aunt Joys story continues to be an inspiration. She is amazing. She is the woman more precious than jewels. I’m praying for her comfort and solace.
Love to Aunt Joy who it seems was aptly names. My walls sing when my teens feel safe to bring friends to our apt. My walls sing at the peace I created for myself after having narcissist parents and a long term relationship to a narc I am finally enough and I am safe in my home with my kids… and I have a million candles because my ex hated them!
Aunt Joy to continue to love and support with no feedback or response must be devastating and hard. You are my hero.
My story of my singing walls in a nutshell…
10 years ago I kicked my cheater ex to the curb. I lost a lot of weight as I couldn’t eat. I didn’t need to lose it. I found life super hard. I wondered if I’d ever stop loving him. He was my first kiss. We’d been together 15.5 years. We had a one year old and a three year old. I was broke.
Today I have a beautiful thoughtful caring husband who isn’t transactional. When I raise an issue, he listens without turning it back on me. He loves me and treasures me. We’ve been married for two years together four and together we are raising our five kids. His three and my two. Our kids get on great.
My career took off. We have a beautiful home. We laugh and share conversation. I may have more grey in my hair, and wear bigger clothes but my husband still calls me beautiful.
Life gets better.
I look back and realise the whole damned relationship was toxic but I never saw it because I focused on the positives. I was a master spackler.
My days of grieving were made sooo much better by this website. I read every damned article. These days I read because I co parent with a narcissist. And it provides insight into his personality.
Thank you for all the resources and articles here. I’d have been lost without them in the dark days.
Tuesday came many years ago now and I’d like to think I’ve paid forward all the support I received through friends and the information available here.
Thanks again
May God show up in amazing ways to see you through each day. Love and hugs Aunt Joy, your name says it all! ❤️☺️🤗
Joy, you are a gift and an inspiration.
As Paddington Bear said to another great lady recently: Thank you, ma’am, for everything.
Rare is the person who truly knows the value of family, friendship, commitment and the act of just showing up.Your name is the embodiment of all who are lucky enough to be connected to you through family friendship or even as far away as chump nation.I hope your burdens are made a bit easier in knowing you are cherished.
Aunt Joy, it seems you already have many of the answers, and you certainly have the support of Chump Nation. When it comes to thinking about how you relate to a man who is losing those precious memories of your life together, I suggest your read some of the “Best Friends” approach to dementia care by David Troxell and Virginia Bell. https://bestfriendsapproach.com/products/handouts/ People with dementia often don’t recognize partners, relatives and others because they remember their appearance from years and decades earlier, not how they look now. It can be easier to interact (for both parties) if you approach them as a close or best friend, rather than pressuring them to remember. For more than 20 years, they’ve been sharing this approach with professional, health care facilities, and families, and it’s very effective.
I hope you also turn to support groups for yourself, not just to hold up others. I hope you will find solace and comfort.
I love this, you’re a blessing to your family, Aunt Joy. At the same time, I wish I could hear more positive stories about men showing up & taking care of their spouses. The rate that men abandon their spouses during illnesses is appalling. My ex begrudgingly & minimally helped me through an illness -while barely suppress his scorn & resentment – and I have to say, that has deeply scarred me.
Actuarially speaking, women outlive men, so they’re more likely to be caregivers. But I agree with you that people who abandon sick spouses are appalling. All the reason more not to reconcile with a person of terrible character. There are men who are caregivers — my grandfather took care of my grandmother for the last 10 years of their lives (they lived into their 90s). But I’m not denying either that there’s a gender element to abandonment. Your spousal appliance services are no longer needed. Or more to the point, the appliance is malfunctioning. Get a new one.
I read that the divorce or separation rate among cancer patients is similar to the general population, about 11.6%, but found the rate jumped to 20.8 percent when the woman was sick versus 2.9 percent when the man was ill.
I think about those numbers a lot.
Chumplady….I was at the doctor’s office yesterday and read an article in a woman focused magazine (although it could be said for men as well) about spousal caregivers taking time to get their needs met. Sadly it proposed without qualification, having a lover to get physical release. The article gave third person accounts of caregivers meeting at support groups and beginning side relationships to fill their desires. One such story told of a wife needing relief from taking care of her disabled husband and the end solution for her was to move in a man she was intimate with and he was to help take care of her husband. I’m not on board. This particular story reminds me of a 90s movie about the same scenario, it starred Judith Light…I’m fuzzy on the name. Very disturbing
NYN–
That’s completely psychotic. I wish you had the name of the publication and author to add to the “ick” list. When I worked for a health watchdog group, I began hearing how “euthanasia” advocates were starting to cluster around US and UK “right to die” movements to insert their abominable views. No big surprise that several prominent euthanasia advocates turned out to have financial ties to lobbies pushing to privatize hospice and make death (how’s this for a lousy idea?) “for-profit.” As a dyed in the wool liberal, it irked me that these shills were all over the pseudo-progressive media trying to peddle these curiously fascist concepts (“Mercy killing” by any other name?) as somehow “groovy.” They would point to the beacon of the Swiss model without mentioning Switzerland’s strict legal limits on profits in private healthcare.
Anyway, the sentiments you read don’t seem so far from that sick perspective. If you think about it, normalizing rank betrayal of the ill and dying is a step closer to “Sure, let’s withdraw my spouse’s food and water, pull the plug, pour on the morphine and hasten death” (ka-ching). I’d love to have a look into that publication’s board, parent company and sponsors. Something smells terrible. I don’t think an argument like that would have made it into print twenty years ago.
The weird thing about my relationship is I had to care for her and my boys when they were ill, but was alone when I was sick. It just goes to show you cheaters only care about themselves.
it’s like CL says, Josh, it can just be about terrible character (and that’s an equal opportunity thing for all genders). Women are 6x more likely to end up divorced if they get sick than men…so we can’t ignore that gender makes a difference when it comes to who will be there for their spouse. That’s awesome that you have been a caregiver for your ex-wife & children. How do we clone you? 😂
I didn’t mean to steer the conversation away from giving your aunt the well-deserved boost & cheer that she deserves, CL. She deserves them all, as does anyone that takes care of ill family members.
I know how you’re feeling. I take inspiration from my mom, she stayed with my dad until the end, he was sick with cancer for 20 years until he passed. She was in a sexless, caregiver role, young kids, a job, and a sick husband and she loved him deeply until the end. She took her vows and love seriously.
Wondering if your ex-FW gave an Oscar winning performance pretending to be someone like your mother before eventually being revealed as the opposite. You’ve got to hand it to abusive personalities that many have wizard level skills in gauging and mirroring their targets’ views, tastes, expectations, etc. Narcissism expert Dr. Ramala said something in a podcast about when two narcissists get together and mirror each other’s mirroring. It struck me as a bit funny, like vampires trying to feed on vampires or an old Xerox machine copying copies of copies of copies until all that’s left on the page are ghostly smudges. They require live bodies to replicate in order to pass for human, though the effect never lasts.
This makes me think of my FW XW and her partner (her former older, rich and married boss). If ever there were two narcissists that I know of in a relationship (they “married” a year and a half ago, roughly). She immediately started to mirror for him, and to a certain extent, him to her, I think. At least from what my son would tell me (unasked for, of course). I think he’s her daddy-figure, so I think he has more pull in the relationship. But who knows? She did finally wear him down to get him to accept them getting a dog. It just makes me laugh, thinking of them trying to feed off each other.
As for Aunt Joy, what a wonderful person, partner, and woman she is. CL, please tell her how awesome she is, again (I know you already have).
Her story reminds me of how our family came together to take care of my dad after he was re-diagnosed w/two new cancers, after he had survived the Whipple procedure following a pancreatic cancer diagnosis roughly three years before.
My mom is a narcissist, but has a strong streak of uber-Catholicism (and the narcissism doesn’t completely define her, thank God), and we all pulled together under her to care for him as he died (me and my three siblings). It remains one of the proudest moments in my life, and I believe for our family. We made sure my dad was taken care of and died w/dignity and love.
That’s what a good partner and person deserves, at the very least. That’s what your uncle is getting thanks to Aunt Joy. Such a tough thing to do, but so beautiful that she’s doing it. Please give her our love and admiration. I wish her (and him) strength and eventually, peace.
Hugs and much love to Joy!!!!! I am a caregiver, working in a nursing home for 30 years. i know her struggle. I commend her for showing up every day and night. It’s definitely not easy, it’s downright HARD!! This my fellow chumps is what love is all about. Unfortunately our FW’s don’t comprehend that.
Dear Aunt Joy, sending you hugs and good thoughts. Thank you for all you do.
You know, this story is mighty because of faithfulness. My cousins wife had dementia and my cousin delt with her at home and then put her in a facility. BUT HE WAS HAVING RELATIONSHIPS with all her nurses and care givers. Having sex with them and excusing it because he had >LOST HIS WIFE already and he had needs. I heard those same words out of my own STBXH after his multiple affairs as he expected forgiveness and said “HE HAD NEEDS and could not wait for me to heal…..he gave me six months. I stayed with him two more weeks before I filed. I KNEW my STBXH would do the same and not even wait until I didn’t recognize him to start making excuses to do someone else. Actually, he was having affairs when I was healthy and loving him. What would he do if I needed him and was sick? I knew what he would do….
. Thank you for this love story, I am sure there are many, but we just don’t hear of them as often as cheaters. God bless you as you are saying a long good bye to someone you loved. It is such a heartbreak but THAT IS WHAT LOVE IS ALL ABOUT
” Grief is the price we pay for love”, as my late Queen said.
This story is so heartbreaking, and yet so uplifting too.
Aunt Joy, you are a wonderful, wonderful person, and I just can’t express enough how much I admire you, how much empathy I have for you and your situation. You have character, integrity, and an unwavering moral compass. I salute you.💫💝💫
Ditto on that Chumpnomore6. I want to add how much that story of “my walls will sing” has stayed in my mind over the years. I’ve used the phrase with a friend – it says so much. Joy’s reach of love has been spread all over CN
God bless you aunt’s tenacity , unconquerable spirit, and unconditional love for not only her beloved Matt but so obviously her whole family. During my time of horror I had my uncle Nick and Eddie a local restaurateur that consistently had my back. The walls sing with music and ideals that lift the spirit. If I may, there was a song from when I was in junior high the early 70s that always lifted me. It was aptly named “Joy” ( short for Beethoven’s ” Ode to Joy”) I offer this to your wonderful aunt…. https://youtu.be/2Mq2NohrRJQ
Aunt Joy, your re-post could not have come at a better time for me. Thank you. Sending you love and strength as you have sent to us.
I hope Joy has been able to engage hospice care for her husband. My mother (who died in September last year at 96), like Matt, declined for years, physically and cognitively, so I have recently walked that path with my mother. Hospice helped so much this last year as my mother exhibited the signs that CL describes as happening to Matt.
The process of dying is like birth: it’s elemental, physical, out of our conscious control. Birth and death are the essential, enduring mysteries. As difficult as it was to be with my mother in her final months, and in the weeks of her actively dying, I don’t regret it for a moment. In fact, in her last few days, I did not want to leave her side. I wanted to be with her. There was a holiness to keeping vigil, and of being present at the time of her death. There is grief, but there is also fulfillment and release. And the full measure of love.
“There was a holiness to keeping vigil, and of being present at the time of her death. There is grief, but there is also fulfillment and release. And the full measure of love.”
THIS!!!! Wow, what a perfect description of that experience! Thank you for being able to describe that, Adelante, for years I’ve been searching for how to express it.
My mom died when I was 42 of breast cancer after 4 years of a horrific ordeal. The last months on hospice at home and the last week, when we knew the time was nearing and we still didn’t want her to go, my 5 siblings, her loving attentive husband of almost 50 years and all the grandchildren gathered in the home. The walls of that home( the one I also grew up in) just sang of love, life, sorrow, loss, death.
Sure, there was grieving and pain, we all hurt for one another’s impending loss, as well as our own, and hard to know the bigger pain. But it felt truly spiritual to me. Like I expected to observe a glowing light of peace covering everything enclosed within the walls.
The culmination of a life well lived, surrounded by ppl my mom dearly loved and who loved her as much back. Honestly, beautiful and excruciating is how I would say it.
Lives lived well are worth living. Cheaters will never understand these kind of emotions. They don’t experience live to its fullest measure, they are too busy chasing the next best thing.
This post today is so inspiring! It makes me cry. I need to gather my thoughts more to address Aunt Joy, but I’ll get to that too.
Beautiful, Adelante. xxx
I owned a facility for dementia care, for those not wanting to use convalescent homes. Some families dump their relative, never visited or inquired about them. Others felt extreme guilt for placing them in my care. I always let them know I had staff 24 hrs a day, seven days a week. Who were exhausted at the end of a shift. There are many, many types of dementia. But it involves wandering, hitting, arguing, inappropriate sexual behavior, toilet issue, eating issues etc.. The only constant was every one of them were happier after a visit. Most did not recognize family, but their souls seemed to know, remember. I am happier to die alone, then have expectations of care, from someone who would dump me at my lowest. Strangers are often kinder then family
Reading this is truly saddening yet truly inspiring. Aunt Joy was there and present for Chumplady in her time of need. I sense most here on this site desire reciprocal unconditional love.
Aunt Joy…..you are an inspiration. I have been honored to know a few wonderful humans like you in my lifetime who have the same wonderful qualities. My grandmother comes to mind…..selfless and unconditionally loving in all of her 93 years on Earth. She lost her husband at age 50. I never knew my grandfather. She didn’t have much financially but never complained and always was there for her family. That is what matters.
The world is a much better place with people like you to shine your light.
I wish you peace, strength, comfort and support in your time of need. Thank you for being there for your husband. Thank you for being there for Tracy. In a way, you were there for all of us on this site.
I hope the kind words from this site provide you some comfort.
God Bless!
My husband left me less than a year after my breast cancer diagnosis and double mastectomy. I always felt deep down that he would be unlikely to stay if I was ever diagnosed with a life threatening condition, or if I ever needed extended care. Turns out I was right. That’s why I so admire people like you, Aunt Joy. You embody the true meaning of love, devotion and commitment.
God bless you, dear Aunt Joy. I can only imagine how hard, tiring and heartbreaking it must be. I will pray for you and your dear husband. Much love to you both.
Nemesis, before D-day I read a book by a family court judge in my country, where she tells the best and the worst stories of cases she has ruled on. One of them was of a guy divorcing his wife when she was dying of breast cancer to leave her for a schmoopie. Back then I thought “Oh, poor woman, how lucky I am”. Well, I will never forget how sparkledick dragged his feet to take me to the ER for an anaphylactic reaction. It was the weirdest feeling, here I was struggling for breath and worried that my then-husband wanted me to die. D-day came soon after.
Joy, you demonstrate unconditional love, devotion, and loyalty. You are amazing.
I hope you will get some respite when family and friends offer you a break. You can’t run on an empty tank, take care of you as well.
Aunt Joy, read this in full before you dismiss. Go buy Matt some Organic Delta 9 edibles or oil. It is 100% legal. It will calm him down and produce feelings of euphoria. I like Exhale Wellness brand.
You can ask his physicians, but they are all behind the curve on this. It will not interfere with any of his meds, except to make him hungry. Start with a very small nibble, wait 2 hours and then give him more if he is not more serene.
When he is inconsolable, these will help. My uncle had end stage multiple myeloma (bone cancer). Toward the end, he was so irritated and despondent that he was almost uncontrollable. He would swing his arms like a windmill at the nurses. These gummies changed the entire vibe in his room. He smiled and ate banana pudding and listened to Chesterton Radio on YouTube.
From screaming and tears to smiles and sleeping. The earth gave us these substances for a reason. Take a leap of faith and try it for Matt. 💕💕💕
Note: If I had knowledge and access to these edibles when I was going through D Day, my life would be different. If you are heartbroken, try them today. Life changing.
My friend is a psychiatrist (not in the USA) and she has been prescribing cannabidiol for agitation in dementia with excellent results
Yup. My mom is on a cocktail of CBDs and THCs and although she has been medically resistant to everything pharmacological, the MaryJane has been the only thing that has consistently, if not fully, at least had some impact on her dementia agitation.
Your Aunt is an inspiration of the type of person many of us LBS’s strive to be. The type that truly understands the meaning of commitment and ‘for better or worse’. I wish her peace as her beloved comes to the end of his time and hope that she takes some comfort in their shared memories and the knowledge that she was with him till the very end.
Aunt Joy, you are a dear and kind soul. Your heart is breaking but full of love.
I cared for my widowed aunt off-and-on for nine months as she descended into dementia, and it was one of the most tender and challenging periods of my life. We could not get consistent home care for her and finally got her into a care home. Those of us involved in the decision wept for weeks.
Hang in there!
Thank you for helping to save me Aunt Joy. I am grateful and am now sending my thoughts and support now in return. ❤️
I read your story about creating “walls that sing” very early on during some of my darkest days. Your story was a goal that I leaned on when I had very little to lean on. Something about that phrase sounded doable and worth chasing.
I’ve moved several times since reading the post about you and each time I look around before taking a place and wonder if this is a space where I can make my walls sing? I haven’t moved unless I felt that was achievable.
How I hang my photos and art, how I place my furniture, how I move in my space – it’s all guided by the goal of making my walls sing.
I never found my equivalent of your wonderful spouse and our lives don’t look the same but you unknowingly gave me a path to happier days. It took a very, very, very long time but I made it with you as my spiritual guide.
Those of us that have been end of life caregivers know the rough seas you are navigating. Please know you have the support of so many here. Complete strangers but still fellow travelers. I hope you can feel our prayers for you and your family.
Thank you, Joy and Matt, for putting good into this world and demonstrating that love truly is a verb.
Joy’s story reminds me of Fred P., who visited his spouse (who also had dementia) in the nursing home daily where my mother worked and where I volunteered. His wife was no longer aware of her surrounding or even who Fred was, but he was devoted to her and decades later, recalling him makes me appreciate the good people in this world ever more. It’s the bond and the joy that transactional folks don’t understand, don’t value and ultimately miss out on.
I hope your Aunt Joy is able to let her spirit heal and will find a way to let her walls sing again.
I was abandoned by my family at age 18, married to and divorced from cheating men, raised two sons, mostly by myself, worked and went to school, and worked until I retired. All of this was my life, and I accepted it and adapted and survived. But the hardest thing I ever did, no doubt, was try to be a 24/7 caregiver for my 90-year-old mother. She has dementia. I ended up putting her into assisted living, where a whole village of folks see that she is cared for, fed, and mentally stimulated. The stress of caring for her was beginning to affect my health. The mother I knew is virtually gone, I see glimmers of her every now and then when I visit. Her body is inhabited by a confused woman who cannot remember what she had for dinner. She participates in activities and gets along with others in her facility. but she cannot remember anyone’s name, or what they do for her. She absolutely lives in the moment, for a moment. So far, she still recognizes me, but I know that will change. She has no sense of time.
Old age presents many awful changes and challenges. I am grateful that my mother does not seem to have any pain or debilitating illness. Her doctors tell me to concentrate of the quality of her life, and not the quantity of her life. I can read between the lines and understand what that means. I know we all will die someday. We just don’t know what day.
I concentrate on all the great things my mother was able to accomplish in her life. She was raised in a repressive FOO environment where women were considered to be men’s chatel. They were there to cook and clean and provide sex and children. My mother was lucky enough to escape this environment, but she never quite overcame the brainwashing. She did go to school, she worked, she married a difficult, immature, selfish, controlling man, had 5 children. She did the best she could to raise us and see that we were educated and able to be independent. She did not know what to do when my father cut off my support after my first term of college. I made straight A’s and was doing well, but back in that day I needed parental permission to leave campus and date. He refused to sign. I told him I was doing it anyway. He cut my funding, thinking I would come groveling back begging him to support me. I did not. I was able to find a way to borrow money to help pay for tuition and books. I was already working. I worked more.
At any rate I persevered, and my mother found a way to reconnect with me. I knew what her life was like, and what my siblings endured. I could not understand why she stayed married, but she did for forty years. She found ways to escape from my father and depended on the kindness of family and friends. She finally was able to divorce my dad after her dad died. Her dad left her his home. She continued to help support her children in the ways she had available. She was present. She successfully raised all 5 children, all of us went to college, and all of us were able to work and live independent lives. All of us found a way to survive, but 4 of the 5 of us were not able to develop long term relationships with a spouse. The one who did found a strong relationship with her partner’s family.
I know my mother and all her children had residual mental problems resulting from the stultifying culture of our FOO. My mother knew women were actually people. We all have certain inalienable rights. She could not articulate that, but her life was certainly lived that way. She was strong and determined. I think she did a spectacular job of living under the conditions she lived through. I remember all that when I visit her. Sometimes I cry when I leave, but I smile while I am with her. Because I know she feels loved when I smile, and hug her, and tell her I love her. She may be a stranger to me now, but I love the woman she was, and respect her accomplishments and grit. She deserves that respect and love.
I respect your Aunt Joy, and all folks who are present in the lives of those they love. It is not an easy task, but it is not a fool’s errand either. The power of love and commitment is worthy of respect. FW’s just don’t get it because they never really care for anyone other than themselves. Even if they know they are loathsome, their feelings are the only ones that matter to them. FW’s are truly alone in this world, by choice. People like your Aunt Joy represent all the good things we are capable of, all the things that truly matter. Bravo!
Aunt Joy, we all wish you solace and moments of rest and joy during this difficult time. You’re a good person.
As for my walls singing moment, I’m finally living by myself. I never have before. The walls are all primed and ready for these paint colors: coconut cream, hibiscus pink, key lime, and Meyer lemon. I’m going to be living in a sherbet bucket and I can’t wait!
Aunt Joy, thank you for the example you have been in Tracy’s life. You gave that blessing to her and she has shared your strength and hope literally around the world. I know that you will make it through this journey with Matt with the same strength you’ve always had.
I helped my mom walk a similar path with my dad as he struggled through end-stage Parkinson’s Disease. We lost him last year. It was hard and horrible, but we did all that we were able to do to ease his suffering. Please do NOT feel any guilt for making the choice to seek more help with his care. You are doing all that you are able to do. Statistics show that caregivers regularly die before the one they care for. You MUST take care of yourself to be able to care for him. I know you will keep showing up for Matt. May God bless you and keep you through this hard time.
I read Chump Lady every day, but have not commented for years. Like Aunt Joy, my 80+ year old father cared for my mother day in and day out for four years before she passed in August 2020, even while he suffered from his own health issues and the onset of dementia. He put his life on hold to be available to her 24/7. His dementia and health issues are now more than me and my siblings are qualified to handle and we will be moving him to assisted care living next week. This decision has gutted all of us, but we know it is best for him. My parents were married for 61 years and my mom was the only woman my dad ever loved romantically. Due to his increasing dementia, he has very little short-term memory and asks about my mom almost every day. When he is reminded that she passed, he breaks down, wracked with grief, as if hearing the news for the first time. My parents had been through many challenges and hard times in their life together, but they believed in commitment, loyalty, and marriage for life. I felt I failed them when I had to tell them about my adultering ex husband, but they loved me and supported me through the pain. My parents taught me that family comes first, and I will always love them for that. Aunt Joy and Uncle Matt will always be remembered for this as well.
My aunt lost her husband over a year ago, and we went through a similar journey. Her husband had the worst time taking care of her through the pandemic but only told two close friends and insisted he was doing OK. I had my suspicions, but he insisted nothing was wrong. Then he literally dropped dead because he had been neglecting a worsening health problem. We cobbled together care. I was out there for weeks at a time, but working remotely from her house wasn’t working well for me. She became harder and harder to handle despite medication, and then one day all the caregivers quit.
So we did a two-week trial in a small dementia care home, and she’s still there. I truly believe that she’s far happier there than she was at home. She believes that she’s on a retreat. It’s a lovely place with lots of activities and good food. They know exactly how to look out for her. She’s pretty much forgotten all of her friends and family other than her husband, and she insists that he will pick her up “tomorrow.” They just go with that, and so do we.
Hey, I just wanted you all to know my aunt is reading your comments and deeply appreciates them. She said she’ll try and reply and post later. She reported that she’s going to some choral concerts soon and a Frieda Kahlo exhibit — art is a balm. Aunt Joy sings in a choir — so her walls sing and she does too. To anyone worried that she’s not taking care of herself, she does. Another way in which she’s admirable.
Your aunt is a living example that art is a balm. It’s all our privileges to reach out to someone whose poetically simple words about walls singing touched lives around the planet.
I hope for a quick and painless relief for Your uncle. Also, if there’s a go fund me for aunt Joy for a really nice trip or a cruise somewhere after all of this is over, I would throw money into that hat. (I took care of a mother with dementia for four years and it was brutal. I can’t imagine going for nine.) hugs to you and your family.
When my father’s Alzheimer’s disease had progressed to where I could no longer care for him at home and he needed to live in a care facility, the wife of the man in the next bed gave me the gift of sharing her story with me which helped to alleviate the guilt I was feeling. She told me that when her husband was at home, she was responsible for taking care of all his physical needs which had left her emotionally drained. After he entered the care facility where the wonderful staff took care of his physical needs, she was able to enjoy simply being with her husband. She visited with him for 3 hours every afternoon, looking at photograph albums, walking in the garden, listening to music, holding hands, and loving him. Like Joy, she showed up and that’s what truly mattered.
Hello from France,
I would like to say that all the good memories that your aunt Joy and her husband shared all these years long are still here, even for him, deep inside. All the care she showed him was felt by him and still is, he knows how exceptional a woman she is. That’s humanity and may all the Dan savages and alikes go to hell (I do not care anymore for people who are complacent towards infidelity) because love and care are not transactional.
I send her all my love from my little corner of France.
God has blessed you Aunt Joy with a big heart and great love. I am sorry you and Matt are going through a difficult end of life stage. My prayer for you is that from this sadness comes peace with the knowledge that you cared for your husband to the end with integrity. I am 71 and have a few friends going through the same thing. Only two of the 6 women (the men were the affected person) showed up as you are doing. It takes integrity and grit. Hugs to you! Take care of yourself during this time. Lean on your friends for solace and support. It is exhausting and you must recharge your batteries too so you don’t become ill. 😘
Big virtual hugs from Texas, Aunt Joy. You’re a wonderful example to me, and I appreciate you! You and Matt are in my prayers.
I remember reading about aunt Joy and feeling so much better. It’s a great reprieve when you’re feeling so isolated to hear about bad ass people who survive hard things. It’s courageous to look after a sick loved one. Love is a behaviour, as my therapist says, and what better way to show love than to care for someone who’s gravely ill. You got this aunt Joy ❤️
Aunt Joy,
I am struck by the example you have set for us. I am struck by your mightiness in overcoming chumpdom, living a robust new life after heartache, and caring for your beloved Matt with steadfast dedication. I am struck by how you took action back in the day for chump lady – I sit in awe that one hand offered to family at the right time had this massive ripple effect and drew thousands of people out of deep, dark toxic lives full of misery. You helped start a movement, in my opinion. You, honored lady, have left a wonderful legacy.
Best to you and yours in this difficult time,
CrispyChick
Dear Aunt Joy
Your beautiful phrase of making my walls sing has resonated loudly in my new happy curated life. My walls sing as loudly as a Hallelujah choir! True Love is about walking each other home, thank you for showing up and honouring your love for Matt. May you know we collectively have you in our hearts. Five years of reading CN daily and it supports my healing. I am deeply grateful for your shining example and for CL. Bless you both!
Thank you so much for inspiring Chumplady, this website has cleared my head so much, and I am so glad there are people like you.
Ms. Joy – I am so sorry that Matt is fading but I know that your marriage is filled with love. He doesn’t remember who you are now, but I do hope that your touch and smell is familiar, comforting and even a little soothing. I am so sorry you are going through this heartbreak. Please take care of yourself too, so you can receive kindness and love now and in the future.
Joy, your story was one of the first I read when I came across Chump Lady and Chump Nation in 2017 (or was it the end of 2016? Everything was so confusing for me back then because I was being badly gaslighted). I was 64 then, so quite a way over the hill. Your story gave me so much comfort and courage!
Not that I ever expect a Matt in the new life I definitely have gained thanks to Tracey’s wisdom, but seeing that HOPE is something worthwhile while we keep up is an end itself, not a means.
I am so sad you are going through this, but it is, I think, a good, serene kind of grief, one that I would give anything to have in my life.
Joy, your story inspired and gave me the strength to keep going many years ago. Back then my walls literally sang with my granddaughters lovely voice.
She graduated from high school and now completing her bachelors and applying to graduate school. She chose to go into the same profession I chose.
I know this is a difficult time for you as my mother had Alzheimer’s for 14 years. Sending love, hugs and prayers.
Fuckwit was a finish carpenter. For 35 years, my home had no interior trim (baseboards, door trim, window trim). Future faking, big talker about how it had to be done just so and how much work it would require of him, how only someone with his expertise and skill could do it, etc. and of course, it would have made me happy so he held it like a bit of bait just out of reach over my head. For decades!
Last month, I began working with a young talented trim carpenter who is staining and finishing all the wood and has recently began installing it. Turns out it’s a pretty standard job. Ha!
I love to just look at it in the sunlight and shadows. I love my pretty little house. He tried to rip it out from under me and nearly succeeded. But, I fought back and stayed focused (unless I was in temporary fetal position screaming). Now, the little edges of my home will finally be beautiful too. Sing!
Thank you for helping chumplady find her way through the pit of darkness because she has passed the light forward to so many. I likely would not have survived if I hadn’t come across her story when I did. And I mean that very, very seriously.
What a liar he is, tallgrass. Trim carpentry is actually not that difficult. I’ve done it myself in the house I bought after dumping the cheater, and it looks good. I stained it, finished it, and installed it. All you need is a mitre saw and a finish nailer.
FWs do seem to love using unfinished home improvements as one of the tools in their abuse arsenal.
Dear Aunt Joy,
Thank you for your leadership through example. Your story on this blog has been so important to me, even long before I divorced, when I was just wondering if it was “bad enough” to leave (it WAS bad enough… it turned out, and got worse!) and realizing that my walls didn’t sing anymore was instrumental in me beginning to get out of a terrible relationship. I’m over one year officially divorced and literally hanging art on my new walls! That makes me sing and my walls sing. It takes getting used to, this new identity as a single person–I was together with my now-ex for over 22 years, 19 of them married. I married for life, but he didn’t. Or rather, he did, as long as I tolerated the intolerable. Worked around his untreated substance abuse disorder, his theft of marital funds, his moods, disruption, and meanness, his untreated, “don’t want to talk about it” sexual dysfunction, his purposeful job losses, and yes, his girlfriend. Just a regular cheater around here!
I cannot really know exactly what you are going through, but I am sending you so much strength and gratitude and kindness and courage for the transitions ahead. THANK YOU.
You are a true inspiration. I am no where near Tues. Yet. One day at a time. Having worked in the long term care facilities , I have seen how hard it is on families. “Sorrow shared is halved. Joy shared is doubled”. Spider Robinson.
Hugs and love to Joy and Matt. This is beautiful. This is what respectful people do. People that respect the people they committed their love to. That’s it, right there. Aunt Joy, you are demonstrating pure love. Dan Savage promotes eventual abandonment for the sake of immediate genital gratification. People like that don’t deserve the beauty of Joy and Matt’s example of pure love. I’m so glad people like you exist.
I watched how the XAss’s father treat his father and mother when their health started to fail. I watched how XAss treated his own father. No compassion. It was all obligation, and grudgingly given too. I’d rather be in the hands of kind strangers than have XAss in control of my end-of-life options and comfort.