She stares at me, owl-eyed, empty. There is no embarrassment when time ticks on. She stares. A sound breaks her gaze and her eyes lock on to a new target. She is nowhere to be found. The old her, that is. The woman who showed such immense joy and love as a mother is gone. Her husband moves her around the streets of their city like he is pulling a 100-pound weight on wheels in his hand. She goes with the flow. He and the children have built a life around this new woman – this wife and mother who is lost to a genetic disease that has stolen everything human about her. She is only 38 years old. She no longer speaks. She stares. She is led to the bathroom, to the shower, to the table where they put a fork or spoon in her hand for her to eat.
After 20 years of marriage, after raising two kids, after building a farm and tending horses and dogs, Caroline knew this much about the man she loves: he is tender-hearted, fun-loving and never lets stress land too long on his shoulders. Four years ago, the old Nick somehow morphed into a new guy, one who is not so patient. A guy who lost his social edge and seems unable to read faces. He is tired and withdrawn. “He’s just not the same guy,” she says. “I want him back."