“Old age is no place for sissies.”-Bette Davis
I have a clearer understanding of the strength required as one ages. It is a gradual enlightening.
As independent as I am, I have always wanted to be a wife. Not just any wife but my husband’s wife. In the beginning, I told him, “I knew you were out there but I didn’t know if I’d ever meet you.” I married him because I knew I needed him like I need air to breathe. Obviously, I am capable of practically anything required of me. I’m not helpless. I’m not much for genuflection or deference. I live the life I choose. The magical thing about the integration of me and marriage is the degree that my husband loves who I am. He does not expect me to emulate someone else because he likes me the BEST.
We are facing a challenge of unknowns, alternately hopeful and fearful. We’re waiting for more information. I do not respond well to stress and panic. I am methodical, I choose to focus on only one crisis at a time. When I articulate my limit, it is advisable to listen carefully and respect the boundary. We have never had a polite union. A long time ago, I read somewhere that couples fight for what they are afraid to lose. That’s us.
Yesterday, I went for a walk, alone, to the bank and the post office. I was happy to be out under my own steam. I was aware that my happiness could be only a respite so I made the most of it. Today is a beautiful day. My husband is calling in with work demands and directives, plans for the immediate and distant future that I am opposed to. I am mindful that as much as he loves me the way I am, I love him back the very same way. For this moment I will try not to be reactionary, I will embrace his vision, and I will tread lightly, savoring each step that we walk together.