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

Move Along

Here is a long overdue update on Debbie’s journey. Time is flying by, and I feel like I am never caught up. There is always too much to do and I have too little energy to do it all.

It has three months of challenges for Debbie as she continues her long goodbye. Since the last post she made two trips to the hospital, one by ambulance the other I drove her. Both were overnight stays, but she was able to return to Edgewater both times.


Debbie continues to lose ground cognitively, but she is unaware of the total extent of her condition, and we are grateful for that. She often does not sleep well so mornings are a difficult time for her. After an hour or two she usually joins in the scheduled activities and is generally calm. I visit at least once every day and always for an hour or two before dinner as this is by far her best time.

We have a daily routine. The first is to help her clean up and change clothes, go for a walk (outside if the weather is good), and then watch a little television. We sit at the same table with another couple where another husband visits his wife everyday too. We have become good friends.

Last month I moved closer to Edgewater, just two blocks south of the campus. I will miss the Bridgewood neighborhood and the many friends that Debbie and I have made over the last 24 years. I went to a different school in 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th grades, all different school districts spread across three states. Being in one place for so long was something I will always cherish. But the Bridgewood house was empty without Debbie and being able to walk or bike to Edgewater seemed like a good option.

The move was more work both physically and mentally than I expected it to be. So many small details and follow-ups to follow-ups. William was a great help moving. Jackson and Cassidy travelled from Kearney and with Mikki and Hunter they organized my great room. They selected new furniture, set everything up, and decorated it in two days. My 98.5-inch television (that's 7 feet by 4 feet) looks good in there!

My new tricycle has worked out great. There is already 55 miles on the odometer from just going a few blocks to Edgewater and back!

Onward and Upward! Bob

Yesterday was Debbie's 69th birthday.

Debbie has been in Edgewater for one year now. She has adapted well to living there and it continues to be the best life possible that I can provide for her. I still visit every day. Most days I must help her with hygiene issues as she is most comfortable taking help from me. Then before dinner we walk around the building or the campus if the weather is nice. If I have FAIR Plan work that needs to be done, I open my laptop while Debbie is content sitting next to me while I work.

The Edgewater staff members are amazing. I cannot adequately describe the depth of their professionalism, their caring, and their hard work. I don't know how they give so much of themselves to care about the residents as much as they do and then must see each of them die.

Since Debbie has been there, there have been six deaths in total, with two in the last few weeks. We lost Maggie, the life of the party. Maggie told me she was there because she had dementia and then laughed and laughed. She maintained her sense of humor, making her pleasant company. About a month before her passing her awful disease went into high gear and forced her into skilled care. Debbie and I would visit her there and by this time she seldom opened her eyes. But when I held her hand and talked to her, she would occasionally squeeze my hand to let me know that she was still there. Cindy passed last weekend. She always had a smile for me and occasionally a wink to let me know she was still there. Her courage to participate in activities while her body was frail and failing was inspiring. I miss them both.

I decided to move closer to Edgewater and made an offer on a house across the street from the campus. I will get the keys to my new home on June 16th. Over 95% of everything I own has been packed for six weeks which means I probably don't really need any of it. I do plan to be very careful when it is unpacked to only keep what is needed. The next few weeks will be busy with the move and preparing the house that Debbie and I built for sale.

I appreciate your continuing thoughts and prayers along with the calls, texts, emails, Facebook posts, and lunch dates that are my life support. Debbie and I are blessed to have such a large group of friends. While Debbie may not know any of this and has lost the ability to know people’s names, she is still there inside and has a degree of awareness. A few days ago, she motioned for me to lean closer as if to whisper a secret and then she kissed my ear and said, “I love you.” She is still there!

Onward and Upward!

Calm and Happy

Here is an update on where we are on our journey. Debbie is still at Edgewater in the memory care unit called Beacon Springs. 

The last few months have been a time of loss. A longtime friend from my Preferred Risk days died, and another is now in memory care. Recently, several of the residents in Beacon Springs have died, two have moved to long-term care, and one is in the hospital. The losses continue with Debbie as she continues to lose more cognitive ability. She is starting to hallucinate. She is hearing voices and then responding to them. Her words make no sense, but then I only hear half of the conversation.

The good news is that Debbie is calm and generally happy because she feels safe. She is always clean, well-fed, and tended to by wonderful people who care about her. To the best of her ability, Debbie participates in group activities. She has many friends and family who visit. So, from that perspective, she's luckier than most people.

As I watched Debbie’s slow decline, I occasionally allowed myself to wonder how long this would go on and what it would be like when we get closer to the end. I quickly stopped that line of thought because it does no good to worry. The best thing is just to deal with it when it comes and live in the present. I have learned to enjoy little things, like a smile, holding hands, or sitting quietly together.

I am finding my life to be quite different as I have never lived alone. I was married to Carol for 28 years before she died, and Debbie and I have been married 24 years. At first, I hated living alone, then for a few months I enjoyed the solitude. But now it's back to where I don't need solitude as much as I need to be around people. I go to the office every day and often have lunch with friends. 

I leave the office at about 3:30 to head over to Edgewater. Every day I help Debbie and the other ladies move to the dining room table. I cut Debbie’s food and do the same for several others. A couple of them wait for me to cut their food before they eat. That is when I get some smiles and live in the present.

Onward and Upward!

Surviving the Holidays

Debbie's slow cognitive decline continues to be noticeable to us but not to her. Because she isn't aware of it she is calmer and less anxious.

The holidays are over, and routine has returned to Edgewater and the memory care area called Beacon Springs. The last eight weeks have been fraught with challenges for the residents and staff.

First, Beacon Springs is now full, as several new residents moved in. It is a time of adjustment for the new arrivals, their families, and the current residents. Something as simple as changing the seating arrangements at meals and the added activity in the common area can be stressful for some residents.

Second, there were many visitors, some travelling from a distance to see their loved ones. A few of the residents were taken out to dinners, family gatherings, and church services. What follows is often confusion and anxiety for the residents. Perhaps it is just the change of routine, a glimpse of their past life, or just getting tired that causes it.

Third, the regular weekday staff, of course, want to spend time with their family during the holidays. So, during the holidays many more days become a “weekend”, i.e., a day without the usual daily events and surrounded by more familiar faces.

We struggled as a family to get the right balance for Debbie between us visiting but not disrupting her new life. We have settled into a routine where I visit every day around 3:30 pm and then leave when she is served dinner and after I cut her food. That gives me time to make sure she is clean and if not help her change. Then we walk or watch TV together. It is a comfortable routine for both Debbie and me. Debbie gets one or two visits each week from family or friends, often having lunch or dinner at the Edgewater Bistro. We have never taken Debbie off the Edgewater campus, and she has never requested to leave. It is a happy place for her, and I am grateful for that.

It felt calm when I walked into Beacon Springs a few days ago. That was confirmed by Rebecca before she left for the day, but it is always a better day when Rebecca is there. Her positive energy and love for the residents is evident to all.

When it was time for dinner the process of getting the residents to the table and served their meal was done by Lilian, Lyric, and Sara. They did a superb job of getting all to the dinner tables. It was a great display of teamwork. What may seem like a simple thing like that can be very challenging as each resident has a unique and changing functioning level. Some days are a test of patience for the staff. I am always in awe of their patience.

A moment of pure joy happened when Tam was seated next to Mary Mae. Tam rarely shows emotion, usually wearing a blank stare as she walks through the halls. Mary Mae sleeps a lot and seldom interacts with others. Lilian sat next to these two women and somehow engaged them to where Tam had the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. It was a smile of pure joy. Mary Mae noticed it too as then copied the smile as well. I pointed it to Debbie and she too joined in. It reminded me that despite the cognitive impairments that they have there is always joy to be found!

Debbie's Community

Debbie was sitting with Rebecca, the activities director, when I came in for a visit yesterday. She told Rebecca, “There’s Bob!” I am grateful that she still knows my name at times while accepting that it is becoming less frequent. Debbie continues to be well adjusted to life at Edgewater and is living her best possible life there. She is calmer. She is less aware of what she has lost and makes the most of what she has left.

Because of my daily visits I am acutely aware of the daily routines of the residents and the staff. It is a joy being with the other residents in memory care too– each one has story and in a small way I have become a part of their world. I have connected with them, and I know I have made their final journey little bit better. It is sad when they pass, and two have passed in October.  No one recovers from dementia.

The Edgewater staff work tirelessly to meet the unique needs of each resident. The residents require a lot of patience, and some days are better than others. But patience, kindness, hugs, and routine do create a community. It is heartwarming to see the residents look out for each other and enjoy each other’s presence. 

There is Carol who a few months ago complained loudly about everything but is calmer now. When Debbie has visitors, we are sure to introduce them to Carol, and she lights up like she has been selected to meet the royal family. Judy and Cindy always sit near each other and look out for each other. Judy always has a smile and wants to share a thought or two like it’s a secret. Cindy will always make eye contact and smile while she waves hello. Maggie, a retired teacher, has a great sense of humor. Pat is often in pain when she moves but has a sense of dignity that is evident to all. Sally’s husband comes in every day like me to help get them settled at the table for meals. Jerry does the same for his wife. 

There are some that have few visitors but do get a lot of attention from the staff. It’s a community and I am grateful that we found it for Debbie.

Onward and Upward! Bob

Debbie's “Long Goodbye” Continues

Debbie’s “long goodbye” continues unabated. We, who are close to her and see her often, see endless evidence of her slipping away from us. The good news is she still accepts without complaint her current living status. Never once has she asked to go home. Debbie sees her room as her “apartment” and she is proud to show it off to visitors. We filled the room with many of Debbie’s favorite items to make it familiar to her. So far this is working great. I visit every day and will do so as it is beneficial to Debbie. I have determined that the best time to visit is one to two hours before dinner. Then I transition out as she is seated for dinner. When I get there, she usually needs help with hygiene, so I help her freshen up and change clothes. She requires multiple prompts for dressing and eating but fortunately she is mostly compliant and does not get frustrated when she does not understand what is being said. A typical visit includes grabbing a couple of cookies, sometimes ice cream too, and going downstairs to the front entrance of Edgewater where there is a sitting area.

If the weather's bad, we stay there, and I'll read to her out of a newspaper or a book. I must break the cookie up and hand it to her as she doesn't know how to pick it up on her own. It is the same thing with ice cream. If it's nice out, we go out to the ponds at Edgewater and sit by a fire pit and just enjoy the waterfalls and the landscape. Occasionally, we go for a walk around the campus. It's a very serene and pretty campus. I always hold Debbie’s hand to give her the confidence that she is not going to get lost, and it is very calming for her.

Then we head back upstairs to make a final check that everything is okay in her room before going to the dining room. She has a regular seat for routine, and I leave as the food is being served. I leave knowing that Debbie is in good hands with the caring staff at Edgewater and that she is covered by your thoughts and prayers.

One of the takeaways that I've learned from going through this experience was the value of some planning that Debbie and I did years ago. We set up a living trust along with our wills and power of attorney for medical and financial decisions. Those documents were invaluable as we went into this journey. I encourage all of you reading this to get this done if you have not already done so. If you have these documents, congratulations on getting it done, but check that your documents are up to date and that you know where they are located.

In the meantime, I am adjusting to solitary life and I kind of laugh as I write that. I've had so many people reach out to me and I'm still working full time, more than full time, with the current challenges in the insurance industry. There is a lot on my plate and that is good for me to be occupied. Occasionally, at night I just kind of wander around the house but it's getting better.

So, with that, I'll sign off for now and promise to keep you updated on Debbie’s journey. Just remember none of us are here forever and never leave any kind thought unspoken. Let people know, as there can never be too much kindness in the world.

Onward and Upward, Bob

Debbie's New Normal

It has been over six weeks since Debbie moved into the memory care section at Wesley’s Edgewater campus in West Des Moines. I am happy to report that the move and transition were better than we hoped for as she was immediately calmer and happier in this more structured environment. She has a nice room; it is quite large, and we call it her apartment. The facilities and the staff at Edgewater are fantastic.

Debbie continues to decline cognitively, a little bit each day. She cannot read, follow conversations, or express more than her basic thoughts and needs. When asked a question she freezes up as she senses that it is a question, perhaps from the rising inflection at the end of the question. We try not to ask her questions, but it is hard not to because it is polite to ask people what they might need and give them choices.

Very little new information makes it into Debbie’s long-term memory. When her sister Ronna visits in the morning and then I visit later in the day, Debbie has no memory of Ronna’s visit. Debbie no longer knows our names.

I see Debbie every day and we go for a walk on the Edgewater campus. Last night I had a wonderful experience with her. I asked Debbie if she knew my name, and she smiled and said confidently "Yes, you're You." I smiled and agreed, and then we went for a nice walk. I am very grateful to be her “You.”

The harder transition has been for me. I was so involved in caring for Debbie every day, managing her medication, cooking meals, cleaning, laundry, helping her with hygiene, and dressing. Now my home is silent. I have never lived alone, and so far, I find it to be awful. So, I am staying busy with friends and family and working on a large project at work to stay busy.

Onward and Upward! Bob

Debbie's Move to Edgewater

I want to let you know that Debbie is entering the later stages of her illness as those around her can notice daily declines. Debbie’s needs have progressed to the point where she was moved into long-term memory at Wesley Life Edgewater in West Des Moines last week.

This has been a tough decision, and I am a mix of sadness because I miss her being at our home but relieved knowing that she’ll be getting the care she needs. Edgewater is well-equipped to manage her symptoms and provide her with the best possible quality of life. She is already responding favorably to her new surroundings.

Soon I will post how to visit or where to send her cards and photos.

Onward and Upward! Bob