Early on, Vera’s neurologist told me, “You’re going to need a strong support system.”

And at first… it looked like I had one.

Vera’s lifelong friends—two of them nurses—welcomed us to Oklahoma City with open arms. They were the ones who convinced us to leave Houston so Vera could spend what time she had left in the town where she’d gone to high school and college. It was a place filled with familiar streets, church youth memories, weekend lake outings, and women she called “sisters.”

We had just finished remodeling a beautiful home in Texas—a big house with a pool—but once the reality of Vera’s condition began to sink in, I knew it wouldn’t be safe or sustainable for her. She needed simplicity, not hazards. Support, not seclusion. So we sold our home and prepared for a new chapter.

Vera lit up at the idea of a new adventure. She was excited. Joyful. Hopeful.

What she really wanted… was Colorado.
She had deep childhood memories there—family trips, crisp mountain air, freedom. But her friends pushed hard for Oklahoma. “She belongs here,” they said. “We’ll help. We’ll be here for you both.”

And against my gut… I listened.
I even talked Vera out of Colorado and into Oklahoma, believing we’d have the community we needed.  Not to “brag about me” but that was the depth of my love and commitment to Vera—a lifelong, Burnt Orange blood, Longhorns fan moving into the “enemy” Sooner Nation.

At first, it seemed like we did.

Vera got her “girl time”—lunches, mani-pedis, hairstylist visits. For a little while, I had moments of rest. She had laughter. Connection. Familiarity.

But then… the unraveling began.

One by one, those lifelong “sisters” disappeared.
No fights. No fallouts. No warning. No explanation. Just distance. Then silence.
Until it was just the two of us alone in a city we had uprooted our lives for.

And then, one day, Vera looked at me with that same spark in her eyes and simply said:
“Colorado.”

She didn’t have to say more.
I knew what she meant. I felt it too.

So we moved again—two cross-state moves within twelve months.
Not because we were chasing comfort. But because we were running from silence.