She is at Peace.

Debbie has finished her long goodbye. She died on July 01, 2026, and is finally free from the disease that slowly robbed her of so many years while making the last decade of her life a challenge for her, her family, and her friends.

A couple of weeks ago, Debbie began showing increased signs of confusion. After several medical tests, it became clear that her condition had progressed to the point where hospice care was appropriate. Those services were arranged quickly, and, thankfully, she was able to remain in the room at Edgewater that had been her home for the past two years.

There is nothing but gratitude in my heart for the compassionate caregivers and staff at Edgewater, a WesleyLife Community. They cared for Debbie with exceptional kindness, dignity, and respect, bringing comfort not only to her but also to our family during the final chapter of her life.

I am equally grateful to my family and friends who stood by Debbie for so many years and surrounded us with love and support during her final weeks. It was remarkable to see everyone focus on one thing, making Debbie as comfortable as possible while caring for one another. There were no discouraging words, only compassion, kindness, and love. One of my greatest joys was seeing Debbie meet her two-week-old great-granddaughter, Lucy, made possible by a 600-mile round trip that her parents gladly made so they could share that moment with her.

Those who know us well will not be surprised to learn that Debbie and I preplanned our funeral arrangements more than 20 years ago. Debbie wanted a quiet goodbye with a private service and interment. She never mentioned a visitation, however, so we are taking advantage of that small loophole to give family and friends an opportunity to gather, share memories, and celebrate the wonderful person she was. The visitation will be held from 1:00 to 4:00 p.m., Sunday, July 5, 2026, at Caldwell Parrish Funeral Home (8201 Hickman Rd. Urbandale, IA) A private service and interment will be held at a later date.

Debbie was the kindest person I have ever known. It was one of life's greatest privileges to be her husband, her best friend, and her partner for 25 years. Her gentle spirit, warm heart, and quiet strength touched everyone who knew her. She will be deeply missed, lovingly remembered, and forever cherished.

https://www.caldwellparrish.com/obituaries/debra-conroy

Two Years in Edgewater

It is hard to believe that nearly two years have passed since Debbie moved to Edgewater. I have become very comfortable with the ebb and flow of life there. Edgewater is in my backyard just a block away and I can see a glimpse of it from my back deck. The facility is about 18 years old and some major remodeling is in progress. A water fountain feature and an endless path of overlapping figure eights with nice landscaping was added. It is very nice and it was built with donated funds.

As I look back over the last few months it is easy to notice Debbie’s continued cognitive decline. But at the same time the tragedy of her cognitive decline is offset by her being calmer and I dare say happier than she was even six months ago. Perhaps it's because she understands less about what she's lost or maybe we are doing a better job of taking care of her needs. Regardless, I'm grateful for her current happiness. At this stage, peace and comfort feel like victories.

One unexpected source of comfort has entered Debbie’s life. She has “adopted” a baby doll who we call “Baby.” She treats it like a living baby, talks to it a lot and apparently it is talking back to her because she holds conversations with the doll and it makes her very happy.

Debbie has been sleeping 12 to 14 hours a day which is not uncommon for a resident in memory care. The problem was Debbie often slept those hours consecutively and that was causing her some issues with incontinence and preventing her from taking her medicines at a regular time. I contracted for additional help for Debbie to come four hours a day from 10 am to 2 pm. This person helps Debbie to get up in the morning, take a shower, get dressed, take her medicines, and eat lunch at an appropriate time. I am certain that we are doing the best we can for Debbie, that she is living her best life, and everything else is up to God.

Even amid the challenges, life continues to move forward around us. I still find work at the Iowa FAIR Plan both enjoyable and rewarding. I am looking forward to the birth of my first great grandchild in June. My granddaughter Allison graduated from the University of Nebraska and has been accepted into medical school at Des Moines University. So, she will be in Des Moines for at least the next three years!

I've made two trips to Kearney, Nebraska to see family over the last three months. When I return from my trips and walk in the house it now feels like home. I greatly appreciate that feeling. I am still meticulous about keeping the house clean and tidy, e.g., when I return from a trip everything is unpacked and put away while the washing machine is going strong. Within a couple of hours, you would not know that I had ever left home. I must need that type of orderliness. It gives me comfort, and on reflection perhaps that is because so many other things in my life are out of my direct control.

As I get older, perhaps even wiser, I refrain from giving unsolicited advice and often defer when asked for advice because it is so often ignored. But I am going to break my rule and reiterate the advice given in a previous blog. One lesson this journey has reinforced for me is the importance of having affairs in order before a crisis arrives. Everybody reading this should have a living trust and/or a will with appropriate powers of attorney documents for healthcare and for financial issues along with a living will in place today. If you do not have that in place right now or it hasn't been reviewed for years, take care of that today!

Onward and Upward! Bob

Where Have You Been?

Another three months have passed in Debbie’s long goodbye journey. She has declined a little more, each decline a subtle milestone, but still she is able to join me for dinner every day.

Recently, we met another couple here at Edgewater who are walking a path very much like ours. Sally is in memory care, and her husband John lives in independent living on campus. The four of us have begun to gather for dinner each evening. John and I often find ourselves lost in conversation, swapping stories from our varied life experiences and mulling over the latest news. There’s comfort in this camaraderie, and it’s nice to see how content Debbie and Sally are having us by their side and sharing the warmth at the table.

Debbie’s world continues to shrink. She shows little interest in stepping outside, so we’ve adapted, taking short walks together inside the Edgewater complex. These loops become our shared moments that we both enjoy without many words being said. She is happiest when she is not required to use verbal communication. Holding her hand as we walk is all she requires. There are times when anxiety clouds her face, but the storm always passes. I am still confident that she receives the best care and support possible on her journey

Of course, I am on a journey too. The role of caretaker is demanding and, most evenings, I find myself utterly spent. After all, I am 73 years old and should be entitled to being tired! Adjusting to living alone has been a new and sometimes lonely challenge. I’ve never truly been on my own before. To adapt, I’ve built small routines. Each morning, I make my bed (my mom would so proud), go through some stretches and lifts, and then take time to prepare a good breakfast before heading off to work. These simple acts bring a sense of order and control in a world that so often feels unpredictable.

My new house, just across the street from Edgewater, is starting to feel like home. The old house has been sold. I didn’t realize how much stress I was carrying until the sale was finally complete and the burden lifted. As I closed the door for the last time, a wave of bittersweet relief washed over me. I was grateful for closure, yet nostalgic for all the memories we made there over 25 years. There were hundreds of times we celebrated holidays, birthdays, graduations, engagements, or the announce of a pregnancy with family and friends. I lingered on the front porch letting the past and present settle around me.

In search of comfort and distraction during quiet evenings, I recently turned to documentaries. I just finished watching Country Music, a film by Ken Burns. It was a journey, sixteen hours long across eight DVDs. I can’t recommend it enough. Among the many songs and stories woven through the film and one reached straight into my heart. It was the story behind “Where Have You Been.” The song, inspired by a couple married for decades, tells of a woman who, lost to Alzheimer’s, forgets everyone—except, in a fleeting moment of clarity, her husband. When he visits, she asks him, “Where have you been?”—a simple question filled with profound meaning and memory.

I was speechless as I listened to Kathy Mattea’s haunting rendition of the song. The words echoed my own experience. Debbie, too, sometimes greets me with “Where’ve you been.” In those moments, I know she still recognizes me! I am still somewhere in the fabric of her memories, however faded the rest may be. Here is a link to the song on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v='pv1nTsxNWJ4

As I navigate these days, I hold on to these small moments of connection and hope. Each day is a lesson in patience, resilience, and gratitude. I appreciate your support and your prayers.

Onward and Upward! Bob

Life Goes On

It has been 575 days since Debbie moved into Beacon Springs, the memory-care community at Edgewater. Beacon Springs is her safe harbor. The caregivers know her well and treat her with such gentleness. Her apartment is filled with little pieces of home that help her stay anchored as her memory slips further away. Even though her world is getting smaller, she has found a way to be content within it.

I continue to visit every day. Those visits have become the quiet focus of my day. I help her with small things like combing her hair, picking out clothes, and taking walks around the Edgewater campus. But mostly, I’m just there with her. There have been difficult days. Hospital stays. Moments of confusion or fear. The painful awareness that she continues to lose abilities she once relied on. Some of the residents who sat beside her at meals are no longer with us, and their absence lingers. This “long goodbye” is filled with losses both large and small.

And yet, there is still joy. Debbie finds comfort in simple things like favorite snacks, the sound of music from her childhood, sunlight through a window. She lights up for visitors. Even though she may not remember their names, she instinctively knows it is a person that is important to her. She smiles often. Her sweetness remains. Even as words slip away, her spirit shines through in the way she reaches for my hand or leans her head toward mine.

For me, the hardest part has been remembering for both of us by carrying the history, the stories, the pieces of her life that she can no longer hold. But I am doing okay. I have many good friends that constantly reach out and the last few months have brought moments of great joy.

My induction into the Iowa Insurance Hall of Fame was an unexpected but greatly appreciated honor. Family and friends suited up and showed up in numbers that exceeded my expectations. To have my children and grandchildren there made the night an amazing experience. However, Debbie was not there nor was my late wife, Carol. I know I would not be the man that I am today without their love and support, but I also know they would be proud of me and that has to be enough.

Blessings abound as I found out that I will soon be a great grandfather! Debbie will not be able to fully understand or enjoy this as I will. She may not always know the details of our life, but we are still on this journey together, one day at a time.

Onward and Upward! Bob

Induction Ceremony 2025 Iowa Insurance Hall of Fame

My induction into the Iowa Insurance Hall of Fame was an unexpected but greatly appreciated honor. My family and friends suited up and showed up in numbers that exceeded my expectations. To have my children and grandchildren there made it an amazing experience. 

The hardest part for me was the speech. Not giving the speech but deciding on what to say. Each inductee is given five minutes which, after the obligatory thank yous, leaves very little time for a serious message. I had been on the IIHOF board for many years and attended over 20 events, so I have heard at least 80 inductee speeches. Some were awkward, some were polished, some were boring. The ones I remember best were funny, so I went with humor with a message. 

I was introduced by Abby-Jaye Larson a fellow CPCU with a personality that shines in the dark. She did a great job and set the stage for my speech. I had some notes printed out but I fumbled them on stage and winged it to the end.  Here is a link to a video of the event.

Besides the the people that attended I heard from friends from across the country. I heard how I had helped them, encouraged them to be their best, and a few that said I gave them a swift kick that they needed at the time. Much of what I heard were the nice platitudes that people say about the deceased at a funeral. I will alway be grateful for the experience.

The recognition was a wakeup call for me, as a senior leader in the local insurance community, to be sure to step up and nominate people that I know that should be in the IIHOF too. I am activity working on four at this time.