Caregiving Blooper

Caregivers, we aren't perfect. Most people hear of what we "put up with" or "go through" and suddenly they view us with a halo around our head. But we make mistakes, we breakdown.
Case in point:
June 2010. Jim is lying on his side of the bed watching tv. I'm not sure if he is watching the soft porn that we used to put on for him when we needed him to stay in a room. We did this so that we could go clean whatever mess, be it fecal matter or something you didn't need gloves for, he had made. Or hell, maybe I just needed some down time. I don't remember why he was in the room contently watching tv but he was.
Coming to the point; I was in my ambien daze as I frequently was (is) those nights. I sat on my knees by jims bedside and I held his hand softly crying. I remember kissing and wiping my tears on it.
No response, just keeps his eyes fixed on the screen,that's why I think the soft porn was playing. Anyhow, I call his name softly, "Jim".
He looks down at me "yes?"
I clutch his hand and put it to my chest. With tears in my eyes, " did you know that you are going to die?"
He looks at me blankly "no, I didn't".
I continue, " yes you are, very soon in fact".
His face changes. Then with the voice of a sulking toddler, "Oh nooo." He even pouts out his bottom lip.
I return his giant hand to my face, softly crying into it. I felt like we just shared a painfully intimate moment, I kiss his hand and tell him that I love him and that I will go with him though this whole thing. My heart is overflowing with the experience we just had...
Then I loving look up at him for a reassuring response.
He is staring blankly at his soft porn again.
I give out a disgusted guff. Then he looks at me, smiles, and in a gingerly tone, "Hello".

My brother loves to tell people this story, of how I told Jim he was dying. And he laughs so hard. But no one else laughs. Stories about our Jim in dementia experience always start out with "Once, when Gayle was on ambien..." -and they usually are funny. But only to us, only to Jim if it were the pre-dementia him.
And as soon as my brother starts telling one of these stories, the halo that I used to see people envisioning me with starts to disappear. Then I say " Well you know, it's hard being a caregiver..." looking at my feet.