We are not the same, but we are still good-great! I have more to do around the house, shopping for his meds, our groceries.
I stepped up. He didn’t stop me.
After three trips to the hospital in the last month, I think he’s good.
He sleeps more, walks slower, forgets details, moves in to hear, cooperates more.
He’s not the life of the party anymore. At my brother’s 60, he sat while friends came to him and it was impossible for him to take a seat while the rest of the crowd stood and moved.
But the passion for our life continues as he gets ready for a short trip to a wedding in Rhode Island. He is showered, shaved, and sitting across from me with the NY Times, his morning OJ and small plate of pills. I will stop for a minute to prepare his first cup of coffee with pleasure.
Back on Wednesday afternoon, I’m hoping that he can return to work on Thursday morning as I take my leave for a return to HVWP summer for until lunch.
It’s a new world we’ve moved into and I will cherish each moment if I’m smart.