Walking through the doors of the nursing home, I painted a big smile on my face.
‘Hello, it’s me, love,’ I said, spotting my hubby sitting in an armchair.
He looked straight through me, as if I wasn’t there.
It was 2008, and my husband Peter was suffering with Parkinson’s disease.
Declining for several years, eventually he could barely move or speak.
He didn’t even remember who I was.
After many happy years of marriage, it was agony to see the love of my life slip away.
A gentle soul, I loved Peter dearly.
When he passed away later that year in his 80s, I felt like I’d lost my soulmate.
Adjusting to life by myself at 78 was hard.
With mobility issues of my own, I struggled to cope…