Jack and I have been apart for eight days. In some ways, these have been the longest days I’ve ever had. I have felt lost in a wilderness, a vast empty space that used to hold all the duties of caregiving. It is both freeing and unnerving to feel so lost.

I am coming to realize that caregiving shaped my life in ways I wasn’t aware of. Getting up, going to bed, eating, using the bathroom, taking a shower—all of these activities revolved around Jack. His needs set the schedule for everything. I got so used to it that I didn’t notice it any more.

Now I am free to choose. I decide when to go to bed, when to get up. I eat when I’m hungry, not when Jack is hungry. I eat foods I want to eat, foods that I can chew. I take a shower when I want to, instead of waiting for someone to be there watching Jack.

I didn’t realize how all-encompassing caring for Jack had become, until I stopped doing it. His well being and safety shaped every decision I made. He was always foremost in my mind, even when I didn’t consciously realize it. He took center stage in everything. But I am not complaining. It had to be this way.

Now Jack is in a nursing home. It’s a beautiful place, filled with people who are dedicated to his safety and well being. He has settled in well and thinks he has always lived there. He has forgotten the trailer and the life we shared.

Although it’s a relief to be freed from the challenges of his care, I have not forgotten. As a result, this week has been a hard one. I have felt a roller coaster of emotions: sadness, panic, loneliness, excitement, joy, fear. I go from high to low, sometimes dizzyingly fast. I know it’s all normal. I try to ride it out and breathe.

My soul knows what the rest of me can’t face—that Jack is not coming home. For the first time in almost fifteen years, I am alone and can shape my life however I choose. This knowing is both exciting and scary. I haven’t had a life to shape in a very long time.

My life was devoted to Jack. My life WAS Jack. I couldn’t take a breath without thinking of Jack: what he needed, what was missing, how I could do better. Jack was the center of everything; and I was responsible for keeping him there. As his caregiver I had no other choice.

Now I am the center of my own life. It is exhilarating. It is terrifying. I have no idea what to do next, except take things a day at a time. And breathe.