Be madly in love with my wife, even when I'm old and crabby.

(to my Beloved Riverdancer)

Twenty-and-three years ago
we made promises,
sincerely,
in the foolish wisdom
of immortals,
Lovers forever
young.

That youth has eroded,
has blown in great clouds
on dark winds of fate.
Practical lovers would have left
this garden, no longer Eden,
for a California dream.

And I would not leave,
would not take back my youth,
not even if offered.
The sweetness of this day
twenty-and-three years from then,
worth
more than youth,
worth more
than an easy road
surpasses anything I ever imagined.

Looking back I see
steep grades and gentle meadows;
mud, some still drying between my toes.
And I choose Today
with a ferocity no youth can imagine.
And I say “This
is good,”
wherefore I bless it
and hallow it,

And retain this wisdom
that keeps me holding you
and ever living the dream
into a new day
together,
twenty-and-three years.

So I woke up at 0430 on Friday morning. Riverdancer hadn’t fallen asleep yet. So we started talking. We were still talking as thesun rose. That conversation lasted until 0730, when we had to get ready for her doctor’s appt. I love snuggling with her and talking about everything under the sun (or moon). The Little Black Beast hopped up on the bed and snuggled with us. He was very cold – shivering – so he crawled under the electric blanket and curled up, giving off gentle snores, to our amusement.

Snuggling with River Dancer in the wee hours this morning. The Little Black Beast curled up behind me and I was in a Love Sandwich! Mmmmmmm …

During the awake portion of our Love Sandwich I felt a voice inside me prompting me to pray for my beloved – OUT LOUD. For a while I resisted, and the voice became more urgent. (This is the same voice that prompted me to get sober, to go back to school, to change careers, etc … a Voice I trust.) So I began to pray, very simply and before I knew what was happening, I was sobbing and because of her suffering and asking the Gods to care for her, to help her recognize the lies of depression and to know that she is Loved, not just by me, but by the Source of all things. It was a moment I hope I never forget. And I am so grateful to have her in my life and to share my life with her.

She told me how deeply this had touched her, what a gift it was. I need to listen to that Voice more often. I need to remember to close my eyes and breathe a brief prayer to be a vessel of Divine Grace and Love, of Power and Beauty.

My Beloved is still hospitalized and undergoing a series of extreme procedures to help get her functional again. Prayers, good thoughts, warm wishes, and hugs are accepted. Today I put together a couple of photo montages so she can think of me while we’re apart (the hospital is nearly 80 miles away and they only allow two hours a day for visiting on that ward – so I get to see her on Saturdays).

And I deeply, deeply miss her. If all goes well she’ll be home on Friday. I’m having to work pretty hard to avoid slipping into a deep funk on a daily basis. I’m growling more than usual. We never said traditional vows, never the words “in sickness or in health,” but the promises we made, both at our wedding and when we renewed our vows ten years later didn’t give either of us time off if the other was ill.

So yeah, this is what I signed on for. And it’s tough going. And it’s worth every moment of missing her, because I cannot imagine living a life in which her absence would not be deeply felt and gravely disturbing. I would rather plunge into despair than be copescetic.

I want it to hurt. It does hurt. Pain is good when it tells you that something is wrong. I cannot take a psychic aspirin. I don’t want one. I just pray that she’ll be home before we get into the sixth week.

when she’s not home. I’m still madly in love – and she enjoyed the Valentine Walrus I got her. I’m looking forward to the weekend.

I’m just typing in a few entries and then going to bed.

She was still awake by the time I got done grousing at the computer and dotting all the eyes and crossing all the t-shirts of life. Nearly 0300. We snuggled. She complained I was cold. So I snuggled closer. I’m such a meanie – but I got warm much faster!!! And she forgave me in a sleepy voice. Ahhh …

A very short night’s hibernation. But it was off to a great start.

So I stayed up way too late on 43T, but my beloved was suffering a bout of insomnia. All it took to get her to sleep was to cuddle a bit. Mmmmmmmmmm …

Some time ago, I wanted to make all of my goals concrete, measurable, and reachable. This is one that I cannot quantify or measure objectively. It has no end date. I can never tick it off my list. But on a list of goals (by the way, I have been writing lists of goals far longer than 43 Things has been around), these nebulous unmeasurables are just as important to remember as the concrete get-it-done goals. I can figure out my net worth on paper, but I can never properly define my love for my family and my God. Who we become is more important than what we do, and thus these undefineables belong on a list of well-written task-oriented goals, if only to provide a proper frame of perspective.