Please bear with me if I ramble, I am not good at writing my thoughts these days. I lost my husband of 33 years on 2/22/19. He died from severe dementia (Lewy Body Dementia), which is a horrible disease. We had home hospice for him so he could pass at home which was his wish. On 2/10, we had to rush him to the ER at Johns Hopkins because he had developed a blood clot in his leg and had to be hospitalized. They were able to save him and his leg. I was so happy as I thought he was out of the woods and I could bring him home and he would regain some of his health. On 2/14, the doctors sat me down and told me he was terminal with weeks to a few months left to live. John was brought home for hospice on 2/18, and from that time on he quickly deteriorated. He passed on 2/22/19 at 4:23 am. The type of dementia (LBD) he had would attack so many things in the brain at once, then again and again. My husband suffered from dementia and AVM with frequent seizures for some years, but beginning October 2018, he could no longer be left alone for his safety. My adult son & daughter and I took shifts caring for him 24/7. His deterioration was not gradual, it was more like stair steps downward. That disease robbed him of his mind, his mobility, his life. The darkest days were right before he passed, within one week he went from talking to not, then deteriorated down to no longer being able to swallow, etc.... It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life having to watch the father of my children, my husband, my best friend die. Since then, I honestly don't have desire for life. I go to work and then come home, sit in my room and look at his pictures. I am not suicidal or anything like that, but I don't have interest in this life without John.