It was a Slow Morning

It was a slow morning for me to get started. I don’t know why other than it was just cold. But I finally did get my ass out of bed and get dressed. And yes Mom, I made the bed. It looks like a pretty good day outside, but for now I’m in the room working at my desktop. My fingers are cold due to poor circulation, but just like millions of other folks out there. So what do you want to talk about today? The latest tragic news or that boring mess known as politics. Me I’m more focused on trying to get my damn fingers warmed up. But the scent of a vanilla candle fills the air, and as much as I’m tempted to go outside. I’m trying instead to occupy my indoor space and infuse it with some good Chi.
 
That’s  because my dear bride has been in a lot of pain due to a long-standing medical issue. Which lends her to some pretty intense outburst of anger and frustration. For me to try and calm her down is a moot point. Considering that I am not only her husband but I’m also her caregiver. It’s a mixed-up relationship for sure, where I assumed the responsibilities of being the primary decision maker, the appointment scheduler, bill payer, chauffeur, and household  manager. In public situations like when I’m helping her in a store or giving her medical details to a new doctor, it can look like I’m a dominating asshole. But I’m sure anyone in a similar caregiving situation knows what I mean.  
 
So I leave her to her recliner with Universal Kids channel playing on the TV and her gaming apps in her hand. While I go do some laundry and wash the dishes. Eventually she comes into the room and starts putting up the dried clothes and for a moment we look like a normal couple. God knows, I’m not looking for any pity for myself or for her. She’s lived with her disabilities far longer than I’ve been around. Besides I walked into this marriage with my eyes fairly wide open. This is the third day I’ve been working on this piece. But for a really long time I just wouldn’t talk about our situation. The exhaustion, the guilt, the loneliness, and so many bad choices. Are enough to plant seeds of doubt. But then there are those moments when everything’s okay. Like driving down the road guessing the age of the slow drivers we pass. Is he 99 or 103? Or laying in bed trying to guess who’s The Masked Singer. Take it off! Take it off! Yeah, it’s easy to say I give up and walk away. I’ve actually seen that happen more than a few times. But her and I, we’re still here.