It’s been raining all morning. Jack and I have been having a conversation about our future, which is rare these days. Our conversation gave me a deeper insight into how he sees things. It also removed a load I didn’t know I was carrying.

For several weeks now, Jack has been saying he wants to go home. All we need to do, he said, would be to get a car and he could drive us home in two days. I assumed he meant back to PA where our new life began, so I’ve been wracking my brains trying to figure out how to make it work. But nothing would come together.

I also felt no urge to leave. The thought of having to uproot us and somehow move ourselves back across the country was overwhelming to think about. It didn’t feel right. I struggled with guilt, feeling like I was letting Jack down. I was berating myself for not moving fast enough.

This morning all of that is gone. After listening to Jack for over an hour, I finally understood and was able to help him articulate where he was mentally. This, in turn, calmed him down because he had finally made himself heard. Now he isn’t insisting that we pack up and leave. I am grateful for the clarity I gained by taking the time to listen.

Jack wants to go home. But the home he longs for exists only in his mind. It is the clearest memory he has right now, and it is familiar. He wants to go back to that place, where he is surrounded by family and our current world doesn’t exist.

He has lost huge chunks of his life. He no longer remembers driving us across the country. He doesn’t remember how proud he was to work here. He barely remembers the life we had in CT, which is probably a blessing. I don’t want to remember much of that either.

He remembers our wedding, sort of. He said this morning that he only married me because no one else was around. I doubt he means it. Our courtship has been erased too, so our wedding probably feels very sudden to him now.

In his mind, he was home one minute, raising a family. The next minute, he was trapped in a trailer in a place he doesn’t recognize, with no way to get back home. Since his newer memories are gone, it probably does feel like it happened that way. It gave me insight into how he sees his world now, even if I can’t fix it.

The bad news is, I can never take him to the home he longs for. I can’t give him back what he craves. But the good news is, I no longer have to figure out how to get him back home. That burden, whose heaviness I ignored, has been lifted. There is a certain relief in that.

I suspect that someday soon Jack will forget he wants to go home. While I dread that day, it will also be a relief, because he won’t be tormented by a wish for something he can’t have. I dread the day and I hope it comes soon. It’s been a hard road for Jack and he deserves to have some peace.