In sickness and in health
My husband has always been the strong one in our relationship.
He was the one who sent me off on a climb and bore the dark possibility of my never returning. He was the one who led us through the major life decisions from marriage to our house and most recently, my staying at home. He’s the one who lugs all the grocery bags from the car to the kitchen at one go. The one who can tell when I’m scared and tells me not to worry. The one who somehow manages to get the baby and the car door.
In a lot of ways, he’s been a tower of strength in this family. And he’s always been there for us. From praying for us nightly to doctors’ appointments to passport collections, and even everyday things like buying groceries and taking out the trash.
Perhaps I’ve grown to used seeing his strong side that I feel helpless when I see his frailty.
A couple of days back he came down with an infection which affected his eye. Seeing him walk around with a red, swollen eye brought tears to my own. It saddens me to see how he avoids carrying the little berry for fear of infecting her. And how he doesn’t want to come near me because he’s afraid he’ll spread his germs to me.
Perhaps it is through sickness that our hearts grow tender towards each other. Through this, I was given a glimpse of how he must’ve felt when he saw me suffering. The heartache is a strange mixture of love and compassion and sorrow and wishing that I could take his place in the sickness.
I suspect he has some way to go yet in the recovery process. In between the heartaches, I can only cover him in prayer and hope that God brings about speedy recovery to this man who’s deeply loved by his entire household – the one on 2 legs, the one on 4, and the one who’s in between.