Ralph has been skipping the last item on his daily lifelist: putting Lola in her kennel bed before he goes to bed at night.Obviously this is a small issue and I am capable of putting her to bed instead. But I don’t want to. For one thing, I like not having to do it myself, like being off duty all together for an hour or two before I go to bed. More important, I like the idea that Ralph contributes, however small the gesture, to the practicalities of our life together.
The thing is, maybe I need to face that Ralph is no longer capable of remembering to put the dog to bed at night. Maybe his cognitive energy is used up by seven pm and I should not nag him the way I do now (and yes, sometimes if he’s still awake reading in bed, I make him get out and see to Lola). And this realization makes me re-considering what I should be expecting from Ralph.
Never mind big tasks like running the tractor—our tractor crisis two years ago will never reoccur because Ralph avoids messing with the tractor at all now; thank goodness I have found someone who not only runs it but also can maintain it. As for medium tasks, like changing light bulbs, I don’t expect Ralph to carry them out any more although once in a while he’ll surprise me like the other day when he was able to attach the propane tank thing to the grill (although he couldn’t remember how to turn on the grill itself).
It’s the small tasks that I’ve been counting on for normalcy. But can I really? It is not that Ralph is unwilling. If anything, he is more willing to than he was in his prime when he downright refused to pitch in any time he found it inconvenient. Now if I ask him to take a turn making coffee, he agrees. If I ask him to help bring in groceries, he agrees. If I ask him to help clear the dishes he agrees. He is happy to help.
But, and it is a big BUT, his ability to follow through can be haphazard. He’ll agree but immediately forget and I’ll be annoyed. While counting to ten I debate in my head whether to nag him or let it pass. Or he’ll agree but do the job halfway. Or look at me with a forlorn expression. The other day when I asked him to unpack his small suitcase after a weekend trip to visit friends (a trip he enjoyed immensely although I dragged him there against his wishes), he gave me that look Unpack a suitcase? Put my socks in the sock drawer? I quickly backed off but he caught my look back and asked outright, “What, you don’t think I can unpack?” “Of course you can.” So he unpacked. But none of the clothes ended up where they belong.
Again, not a big deal. And not that he doesn’t ever follow through, not that he doesn’t sometimes surprise me with his competence, the same way he sometimes surprises me by remembering a conversation I assume he’s forgotten. But there are so many other examples of disappointment. So many times I get annoyed because he doesn’t follow through. So many times I wonder Should I trust him even to try a task he seems reluctant to try? Is he unwilling or unable? So many times I wonder Am I being too tough? Am I being too coddling?
Of course, I am being both and neither. I never seem to calibrate the right balance because there isn’t one. Although Ralph appears more capable and competent some days than others, I have to face that his brain is going through its own climate change, a melting away sometimes indecipherable but undeniable.