…because I am never not doing it.
When we met I knew he was a veteran. I knew he was divorced. I knew he had children.
I didn’t know – he didn’t know – that the malignant oliodendroglioma that had been removed in 2010 wasn’t quite done with him. However, since this is me writing about my own wonder that I haven’t written about it yet – 10+ years later – I’m not inclined to relive the first 2 years of hell in the first post regarding that journey.
I’m not even sure I want to write about the outrageous behaviors that come with the side effects of the medications, like being effectively blind for several months and no one could figure out what the fuck it was.
I guess I just want to acknowledge that I am and have been a Military Caregiver since before my husband and I married in 2018. It was not a job I applied for, it was not a role I had hoped to have one day.
Because he had retired from the service before we met, I wasn’t anything like a military wife. He worked as Service Officer for a long-time established veteran’s service agency. So the stories of his clients and his co-workers was the closest I ever got to that life or community. But once the infection in his skull, that had developed after his 2nd brain surgery before we met, was too severe to treat with oral antibiotics, I officially became a part of the military veteran’s world.
Lo those many years later, we are in the next stage of this journey. He is losing strength, coordination and cognitive processing speed. We have a home health aide for the hours I’m at my part-time job – and tools scattered about the house to help him remain as independent as possible. We are awaiting a call from the contractor who is going to put in a ramp for easier access to and from home. We are about to choose a contractor to redo the bathroom for accessibility and widen the entrance to same. This, when we had imagined traveling, maybe even owning an RV and seeing the country in our later years.
There are many stories to tell – and burdens to lay down, but mostly I just want to say how grateful I am that he is the same man I met that fateful day so many years ago. After meeting him, I exited the room as quickly as I could. I knew the connection was undeniable, but a new man was not in my plan – not at all. I had laid down the law with my best friends, telling them how much better I functioned alone, how much easier life was when single. HA, famous last words!
His kindness, humor, generosity, passion, and understanding has remained throughout our time together. We are living a completely different life than we had planned, except for one part – we’re living it together.
God I’m a lucky woman!
