Don’t worry dear wife, he will share this with you.
Your life will be even better than ever, it’s true
Fall in love with his loves as you do him too.
The rewards will come naturally and exceed your dreams
Your own desires will be satisfied along the way too.
God’s plan is so good. Trust in it this night.
My beloved is going to become a private pilot
“Gooooo Steeeeve!” I love you!
UPDATE: And after rescheduling due to overcast skies, Steve became a private pilot on Tuesday, August 20, 2019. Congratulations my love! We celebrated with his first flight that Friday with my beloved as Pilot-in-Command and yours truly. Story to follow . . .
The question that I simply don’t need to ask again, yet have wasted too many moments wondering, is the one posed in this song by the Shirelles. Oh and Dionne Warwick. And maybe Amy Winehouse too. Such a classic song!
Each time I wind up in the Emergency Room, I wonder if my beloved will still love me the next day. This morning he referred to yesterday evening as “another date night!” Unbelievable. All this love continues after about 16 trips to the ER in the past 7 years. I am humbled and blessed beyond measure.
This blessing is hard to see sometimes when my body is breaking down in a new way once again. Looks like an ulcer in the lower part of my stomach is the reason for a month of abdominal pain. Over-the-counter and walk-in clinic medications did not solve the problem. So after a CT scan under the influence of anti-allergy drugs and some more potent medication, I am in less pain . . . but oh so worn out. I’ll see a gastroenterologist this coming week with an endoscopy likely to follow. Going to try to keep my stress level low in the meantime. I mean I don’t have any other of the risk factors that contribute to an ulcer (e.g. spicy foods, caffeine, alcohol) unless of course there’s a hidden H. pylori infection. So more testing is needed to figure this one out.
The other “love” that could be easy to question is that of my Heavenly Father. But I don’t. I look around and see tremendous blessings in my life in that I have a warm home in which to convalesce, enough food and clothing, and finances for the important stuff. My beloved is faithful and loving like “Jesus with skin on.” What I don’t understand is how these illnesses isolate me from friends and family outside of our home and most notably, my husband’s adult children.
My extreme sensitivities continue and are triggered by the fragrant products they (and many folks) tend to use. We are just not sure how to manage this reactivity with our Christmas gatherings rapidly approaching. We already had to decline having both daughters stay with us (which was a delight to host them in years gone by). A trial of having his oldest stay with us for about a week 2 months ago, despite extreme precautions, triggered a violent relapse in the convulsive episodes. I am now sensitized to even trace amounts of fragrance on her coat that was kept in a suitcase in our garage in between scheduled visits. Then I had a seizure spike 2 days ago when she returned from some travels to pick up her suitcase . . .
My heart is breaking from more than the loss of acquaintances and friendships: my relationships with my husband’s children never really got going. Steve and I have been married for 11 years and I got sick just 4 years into our marriage. I have been battling a serious illness for most of our marriage! You could say that my limited visits with his adult children gave them more time to adjust to the fact that their father is remarried. Well, o.k. maybe that’s it. I already sensed that I needed to lie low during their visits in the beginning anyways, focusing on serving them good food and comforts and not speaking up too much nor complaining when their Dad jumped to see them, rescue them when the trials of young adulthood came along. No problem. Fix the car? Pick them up at the bus stop? Join them at church? I just had to stay home due to illness factors and couldn’t go with their Dad to help them, that’s all.
They don’t really know me either though. We profess the courteous “love” greetings yet would I ever really see them again if something happened to their Dad? Oh dear, I should not even go there. I now realize that this barrier between us is completely out of my hands. Remember when I sent along baked goods with Steve for when he visited his family in Arkansas without me 2 weeks ago? Yes, I need to rest in the hope that what I could do has been done as unto the Lord. My Jesus and my beloved know my heart. They hold together the parts in me that are breaking and the inner tears. And the Lord also holds me in tender moments like these right now.
I need to know that your love. Is a love I can be sure of. So tell me know so I won’t ask again. Will you still love me tomorrow?
If you travel the same way and expect different results they say it is the definition of insanity. I get that so I resist the same.
If your baseline shifts and you take the same precautions against a disastrous outcome, you might say you are taking a chance that you might get different results. I usually control the factors I can and go with the new direction . . . when amnesia sets in from the last failed effort and something new looks promising.
If you smash into a devastating blow anyways and have to retreat to combat the devastation, you might say that you were more rolling the dice than making a reasonable plan for success.
If you add too many factors in any plan, precaution, retreat and come up against a surprise attack from an unforeseen foe then you won’t know what hit either one of you until the smoke clears along with your heads. Me: hours of violent convulsive episodes and the aftermath. Him: heartache, exhaustion, and no peace.
And if you are me in the latter years of battling a complex illness, you live in shock from the blows of what hit you in the last 24 hours when it is after 6 days of relatively few symptoms. The new treatments did look promising. They did not hold off the onslaught, however. And you paid one of the highest prices once again this side of heaven.
And if you are the beloved husband trying to navigate these landmines, help fight the war while carrying on with the normal and fun activities of life . . . you will have to watch the horror of your beloved get tortured on the battlefield. You try. Success is elusive or temporary. You fail. Again you grieve and so does she.
And if this well-worn path brings despair then so be it. Tomorrow is still another day. As for me, I’m still here and so is my beloved. Most importantly, I know that my Lord sees my waterfall of tears lain at His throne of grace. Life will go on somehow as it always does; I have more responsibilities now. The despair will give way to some sort of hope in due time; the Lord will add His grace and strength to see me and my beloved through once again.
For today, I am like a beaten puppy on this well worn path of life. It is tough stuff indeed.