Wedding Bands and Homemade Noodles

A wedding band does not a marriage make.  It is merely an outward symbol of an inward commitment.  The commitment can be made without the symbol.  It is how the individuals live and love that matters.  My parents celebrated 58+ years of marriage to each other and neither of them ever wore a wedding band.  It was the love and commitment, the continuous celebration.

Hard work?  Certainly.  No matter how much two people care for each other it requires effort  to make the relationship work.  Willingness to make the effort is the thing most often lacking in failed relationships.  "I don't love her anymore."  "He doesn't appreciate me anymore."  A thousand other excuses but underlying them all is a lack of commitment and failure to expend any effort.

If you don't love her now, then you never loved her enough to ask her to marry you in the first place. As Johnny and June sang to each other "We got married in a fever hotter than a pepper sprout."  A fever, lust, is a flimsy foundation for a marriage..

This started with the simple tableau that played out in our living room yesterday.  BBBH went to the kitchen and retrieved my wedding band which rested in a small cup since I went into hospital, the same small cup in which  she deposits her rings from time to time whilst she is kneading dough or making pie or noodles.  Neither of us feels unloved or unloving during these intervals in which the mere outward symbol is set aside, for the inner commitment continues to thrive.

My Beloved Beautiful Better Half brought the symbolic token to me and said,  "Let me put this ring on your finger again."

"If you had it to do all over again, would you still marry me?"

"Of course.  Just because I get mad at you doesn't mean I don't love you."

Then she lovingly replaced the ring on my finger.

  For this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife.  --Jesus Christ

After 40 Days in the Wilderness

Home, that's where!

Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But being home is so delightful

Please continue to pray and wish me well.  I am a long way from where I would like to be, but I will get there.

Mention Something

bad, it will happen; mention something good, it will go away.

So I have heard it said.  I am not superstitious, but I am still not going to mention what I am hoping for today.

Happy March! 

A Long Leap

My Aunt Edrie was born on this date in 1916 and thus it is her 25th birthday.  She died in 1997 at  age 81.

Willamette Cemetery

Albany, Oregon

Mr. Jarvis passed September 2015 in Ocala, Florida.

Progress via PT

Progress:  an hour in physical therapy is a welcome relief from the tedium (how many episodes of "In the Heat of the Night" can one watch? nostalgic in so many ways:  "back then" it was the nonagenarian mother-in-law's favorite show) from the tedium, I say, of the daily routine.

Red Riding Hood and the Old Grey Wolf.

Pretty little girl, long dark hair, perhaps 27, appears at bedside, two a.m.  She had cared for me when I was on her wing.  She wore a red woolen winter coat and a grey scarf around her neck.

"Just got off shift and wanted to say 'Hi' before I go home."

"Hi.  Thanks.  I appreciate the visit."

"You are looking really good!"

And there it is.  I have grandchildren older than she; I am lying on my back staring up from the sheet tucked around my neck; just awake from three-hour sleep.

It must be the lighting, muted as it is filtering in from the open door.

A Tiny Note and Update!

Progress:  an hour in physical therapy is a welcome relief from the tedium (how many episodes of "In the Heat of the Night" can one watch? nostalgic in so many ways:  "back then" it was the nonagenarian mother-in-law's favorite show) from the tedium, I say, of the daily routine.

Update:  Trip to surgical team in Indy.  Passed the one-month test with flying colors!  I may now lift up to 25 pounds, raise my arms above my head.  And I forgot to ask if I could resume my normal sleeping posture.  I have slept on my back for the past thirty-two days.  Anyway, other good news: I can drive provided I am not on any opioids.. (I haven't had one of those in two weeks!)  I am to be released from nursing home on schedule: February 25.  Now that is more than an update, it is progress.

Downside:  (Because I don't always see how full the glass really is) There are a couple of unintended consequences of the procedure, but they are being addressed and are a minor annoyance in the over-all scheme of things.  Care to be taken until the end of April, for it takes three months for complete healing to eventuate.

I am elated.

Greeting the New Day

 With feet entangled, pressing the foot-board,  cramped back, buttocks sore, we greet the new day two hours after the last time we lay awake.  It is now four o'clock, yet darker than it was wen I got into bed.

Twist and grope for call-light button.  It is always there, yet never quite where it was before.  Found.  Pushed.  And some time later, tap-tap on the door.

"I want out of bed."

Cheery little girl who a year ago was looking forward to the Senior Prom untangles my feet, twists legs to hang over the edge of the bed.  Drains bag, washes hands, watches solicitously as I stand and move feet carefully until backs of the legs touch recliner's front. I Sit.  She tucks my feet, makes up the bed, makes sure the call button is at my hand.

And I am alone.  Three hours until breakfast which will be long after the buttocks hurt from sitting and three hours until dawn's early light.

This is the first of the pieces I wrote in my notebook.  This morning the handwriting seems, though my own, almost illegible.  Time has passed, sometimes tediously, and I am much better. Two days later the hideous recliner was replaced by a new one!  Much  better.  Now on Friday (2/19) the PT released me to move about my room and to roam the halls without supervision!