Let your wife be a fountain of blessing for you. Rejoice in the wife of your youth. (Proverbs 5:18)The wife of my youth is 60 and is slowing down. I remember when she was young and it seemed like it would always be that way.
We always figured that I would be the one who would probably become crippled and she would have to take care of me. My feet have always been bad and we just figured they would wear out soon.
As it turns out, my feet are fine and she is wearing out. And the bad thing, there is nothing we can do about it.
As her MS progresses, it gets harder and harder for her to stand and walk, so the job of taking care of her comes to me. And I do not regret it. Except for the fact that I see her deteriorate, I do not mind at all taking care of her.
She has taken care of me all my life. She has followed me around from place to place and made a home for me and our family wherever I was. Now that the children are gone, she makes a home for me.
And even though she has difficulty doing things, at the same time, wherever she is becomes home. Even now, as we are staying in a bedroom in my daughter’s house, when I come in the bedroom and she is there, it is home.
I rejoice in her. I love her and cannot imagine loving anyone else. If I could I would take the illness from her and have it myself. Of course, I cannot, and it becomes a purely academic thing. There is no way I can do it, so it is easy to say I would.
But I like to think so.
It is amazing how our love has grown. We accept each other. We live with each other’s faults (although hers are few) and, for the most part, are past all of the squabbling and power struggles that are so much a part of a new relationship.
It is easy now to sit together, read together, go for drives together. we spend a lot of time together and like it. I talk and she listens, we discuss, things for the most part are smooth.
That is not to say there are not small flare ups. There are. We are human. But they also go away easily.
She is and has always been a blessing to me. and I love her.
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