The progression of the disease it not linear, and neither are the stages of grief that accompany it. I watch Miklos grieve for his own losses as he slips slowly away. There is one thing and then another that he can’t understand, more frequent times when he can’t follow the logic of a sentence. I grieve for his grief.

Kubler-Ross was right about stages of grief, but in practice they are anything but linear. I am seeing a long, slow progression, a slow process of wasting away. There are better days and worse, for both of us. Some days, I am quite accepting. This is our reality. But other days, I am still quite angry. I may be irrationally angry at Miklos for losing his brain, as though he had a choice. Sometimes I am angry at him for the things he has forgotten to do, even though I know he is trying his best.

Then I become angry with myself for being angry. I don’t know if I will ever quit being angry with the disease itself, and with the lack of progress in finding a cure, or even a more successful treatment. I see the ads from the Alzheimer’s Association proclaiming that somewhere out there, there’s the first survivor of Alzheimer’s. But I know it isn’t my husband. And I am both angry and sad.

I wonder if it is different when you lose a loved one quickly, as in an accident or a very acute disease. I should know because I have experienced it. My dad died in a house fire, but I don’t remember what my grief was like then. I was working a very stressful job. I had my mother at my house while her house was restored (and the guest bedroom was a hide-a-bed in my home office, which certainly added to work stress). I was looking after all the insurance issues for my mother, and talking to the hazard clean-up people and then the contractors. I had little time to be in touch with my own feelings. I remember getting touchier with my co-workers than usual.

I also remember once reading an article by a recent widow. She wrote that at first when her husband became ill, she was a bit envious of a friend whose husband had died in an accident. She hated watching her husband suffering. After his death, her reflection was that she really treasured the last years they had together.

A friend of my is grieving the loss of her husband, just a few years ago. Hers was a middle ground. Her husband was hospitalized, released for a week or so, and then readmitted. She had about four weeks to prepare herself for his passing. Maybe that is the best way, maybe mine is. When I am feeling the most acceptance, I think mine is. Anyway, it’s futile to try to compare grief.