Sunday, October 9, 2016
Red Iguana
I have been reading the blog my family kept for me when I first had the stroke. It brings back a lot of memories, both good and bad. I realized that I wanted to keep those memories but they were miszing from that blog. So here are the blog entries as well as
more latermy color commentary.
Wednesday December 5 2007
The surgery to place the trach and the peg was successful. No complications. They feel this will really help her be more comfortable. She will be sleeping for a while now because they had t0 put her out.
Early in the evening I had a nurse come in and sit down by my bed. He asked If I were LDS and I nodded. He spoke with me a bit, and although I can''t remember all that he said, I remember feeling comforted. He could probably lose his job for that so keep it to yourself.
Later that evening my friend Karen and her husband Scott came by. I was not supposed to have visitors in the ICU at that hour but Scott may or may not have told them he was my doctor. He wasn't. In his defense, he was A doctor, just not MY doctor. And he is now so it all works out. Anyway, they had just been to eat at one of my all time favorite places, Red Iguana. They didn't want to tell me but I could smell it.
After they left I started coughing and could not breath. I felt like everything they had touched or even thought about touching was out to get me. Nurses ran in and started wheeling me out and the last thing I remember was someone saying "Stay with me." Next thing I knew I was waking up with a trach. In reality, it had nothing to do with them but I totally hold them responsible and think I should at least get a free meal at Red Iguana! Kidding, of course.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
School, Gypsy Kings, Clock and Tic Tacs
Interesting week. Not always pleasant but Robert and the kids always make me laugh so I never sink too far into a dark mood.
On Wednesday the kids started school. In years past they have been year round so the first day of school was staggered depending on which track they had. Back to school morning was, if not easy, at least manageable for me on my own. This year they are on a traditional schedule. People were parking on our street because there was no space by the school. Even the handicapped parking was full. Inside was crazy! I think the whole state was there. One could literally not move without bumping into people. In large crowds Robert always holds me tightly and tells me that, "You move for no one." Together we made it to both of the kids classes. Again I was reminded that there is no way I could handle all of this without Robert. I AM different. Other parents take for granted walking through crowds without losing their balance and mornings like that are relatively easy and require no more planning than making sure your shoes match your shirt. But Robert and I have to plan parking, timing, footwear that helps most with walking, etc. I never get to take these mornings for granted. On the other hand, the kids know this and open doors, ask people (nicely) to step aside, and are not totally embarassed by their parents. Man I have a good family!
Tommy has had difficulty with change ever since he woke up to lights flashing and strange men taking his mom away. I know, weird, right? Anyway, starting a new year always causes anxiety. I looked over at him while his teacher was talking and he had teary eyes and looked like he would rather be anywhere but at the school. I whispered for him to follow me into the hall and asked if he wanted to have a prayer. He could not even answer out loud and just nodded. I leaned close and the two of us folded our arms and closed our eyes there in the hall with people all around. After he was still a bit anxious but was no longer tearful and seemed to be slightly more brave. He had the faith to know that Heavenly Father would take care of him and all would be well. I have never been more proud of my boy.
Every night, in her prayers, Jain says she is thankful that I didn't die. Simple but very sweet. Often this leads to questions about strokes and the events surrounding mine. I knew it was coming but I was still caught off guard when she asked, "Was it my fault that you had the stroke?" My heart broke. She had obviously been thinking about it. I had to choose my words carefully. I told her that a stroke can happen to any mom at any time when they push the baby out. I tore an artery when she was being born but it could have happened with any one of the kids and it has nothing to do with the baby.. She was a perfect, very small (barely 5 pounds) little girl and I am always happy she is here and I would happily have another stroke if it meant I got my three critters.She seemed happy with my answer. She still has lots of questions but, for today, she seems satisfied.
At dinner tonight, Papa (Robert's dad) was asking Aleq what different words were in Spanish. He would often laugh and tell us that he only just started learning. I told him that if he stuck with it he could translate all my songs by The Gypsy Kings. He rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah mom, THAT is why I'm taking Spanish. How rude!!! He should love all my music! I thought he just liked our chats in the car but it turns out he just doesn't want to listen to my music. Not even U2. Have I taught this child nothing???
Also tonight at dinner, the grandfather clock was going. When we were first married, Robert would ask his dad to stop it whenever we visited St. George. But since they moved up here, all of us have mostly ignored the chimes. But somehow tonight was different. Every 15 minutes it would chime and I would suddenly remember being at sleepovers in skips basement, in the very same bed with 2 or 3 of his daughters. I would wake up when it was still dark out and the only sound was the chiming of the clock. Every chime was 15 minutes closer. Just not sleeping over or going home very early wasn't an option. Too many questions and I didn't dare risk his anger. Besides, maybe today he wouldn't come. So I would just lie there, heart racing, trying to calm my breathing so I wouldn't awaken the girls and counting the clock chimes as the numbers got bigger. Then I would hear water running. Shower before work. Panic would set in. Shortly after I would hear footsteps on the stairs and I knew he was coming. I only remember bits and pieces of what he did each time because I have spent a lot of time purposely trying not to remember. I remember Stetson cologne. I remember his freshly washed hair. I remember him kissing and fondling me. And I remember being so grateful when he had to get to work and it would be over.
Yes, I'm 42 now and can see how messed up my thinking was and I really feel that I have worked through it. But sometimes something like that will slam into me and I feel what I felt then and I want to go back in time and protect and comfort that little girl.
Did you ever see the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine gets annoyed with a guy who sidles up to her at work so she has him carry around Tic Tacs? We always laugh because my walking isn't exactly silent. Robert says that strokeys don't need Tic Tacs. Nice.
That was my week. Mostly. All in all it's pretty darn good.
On Wednesday the kids started school. In years past they have been year round so the first day of school was staggered depending on which track they had. Back to school morning was, if not easy, at least manageable for me on my own. This year they are on a traditional schedule. People were parking on our street because there was no space by the school. Even the handicapped parking was full. Inside was crazy! I think the whole state was there. One could literally not move without bumping into people. In large crowds Robert always holds me tightly and tells me that, "You move for no one." Together we made it to both of the kids classes. Again I was reminded that there is no way I could handle all of this without Robert. I AM different. Other parents take for granted walking through crowds without losing their balance and mornings like that are relatively easy and require no more planning than making sure your shoes match your shirt. But Robert and I have to plan parking, timing, footwear that helps most with walking, etc. I never get to take these mornings for granted. On the other hand, the kids know this and open doors, ask people (nicely) to step aside, and are not totally embarassed by their parents. Man I have a good family!
Tommy has had difficulty with change ever since he woke up to lights flashing and strange men taking his mom away. I know, weird, right? Anyway, starting a new year always causes anxiety. I looked over at him while his teacher was talking and he had teary eyes and looked like he would rather be anywhere but at the school. I whispered for him to follow me into the hall and asked if he wanted to have a prayer. He could not even answer out loud and just nodded. I leaned close and the two of us folded our arms and closed our eyes there in the hall with people all around. After he was still a bit anxious but was no longer tearful and seemed to be slightly more brave. He had the faith to know that Heavenly Father would take care of him and all would be well. I have never been more proud of my boy.
Every night, in her prayers, Jain says she is thankful that I didn't die. Simple but very sweet. Often this leads to questions about strokes and the events surrounding mine. I knew it was coming but I was still caught off guard when she asked, "Was it my fault that you had the stroke?" My heart broke. She had obviously been thinking about it. I had to choose my words carefully. I told her that a stroke can happen to any mom at any time when they push the baby out. I tore an artery when she was being born but it could have happened with any one of the kids and it has nothing to do with the baby.. She was a perfect, very small (barely 5 pounds) little girl and I am always happy she is here and I would happily have another stroke if it meant I got my three critters.She seemed happy with my answer. She still has lots of questions but, for today, she seems satisfied.
At dinner tonight, Papa (Robert's dad) was asking Aleq what different words were in Spanish. He would often laugh and tell us that he only just started learning. I told him that if he stuck with it he could translate all my songs by The Gypsy Kings. He rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah mom, THAT is why I'm taking Spanish. How rude!!! He should love all my music! I thought he just liked our chats in the car but it turns out he just doesn't want to listen to my music. Not even U2. Have I taught this child nothing???
Also tonight at dinner, the grandfather clock was going. When we were first married, Robert would ask his dad to stop it whenever we visited St. George. But since they moved up here, all of us have mostly ignored the chimes. But somehow tonight was different. Every 15 minutes it would chime and I would suddenly remember being at sleepovers in skips basement, in the very same bed with 2 or 3 of his daughters. I would wake up when it was still dark out and the only sound was the chiming of the clock. Every chime was 15 minutes closer. Just not sleeping over or going home very early wasn't an option. Too many questions and I didn't dare risk his anger. Besides, maybe today he wouldn't come. So I would just lie there, heart racing, trying to calm my breathing so I wouldn't awaken the girls and counting the clock chimes as the numbers got bigger. Then I would hear water running. Shower before work. Panic would set in. Shortly after I would hear footsteps on the stairs and I knew he was coming. I only remember bits and pieces of what he did each time because I have spent a lot of time purposely trying not to remember. I remember Stetson cologne. I remember his freshly washed hair. I remember him kissing and fondling me. And I remember being so grateful when he had to get to work and it would be over.
Yes, I'm 42 now and can see how messed up my thinking was and I really feel that I have worked through it. But sometimes something like that will slam into me and I feel what I felt then and I want to go back in time and protect and comfort that little girl.
Did you ever see the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine gets annoyed with a guy who sidles up to her at work so she has him carry around Tic Tacs? We always laugh because my walking isn't exactly silent. Robert says that strokeys don't need Tic Tacs. Nice.
That was my week. Mostly. All in all it's pretty darn good.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
It's Tough Bein' Karl Malone
I should have posted all this earlier but I have been grouchy. You see, it's hasn't been an entirely fun
for me .But whatever, I'm good now so...better late than never.
a few years ago Robert and saw a documentary about Karl Malone. He's very entertaining. He was complaining about things that were hard in his life that Robert and I were just laughing because the things he was saying were ridiculous! Then he said what just be one of the best things he ever said. "It's tough bein' Karl Malone." We could not stop laughing! Now whenever somebody complains about something trivial, like "My cars heated steering wheel won't turn on." we always say that it's tough bein' Karl Malone. The same idea applies here. I was focusing so much on the negative that I was ignoring the overwhelming good all around me.
On October 30 2015 it became official, Robert has been married to strokey me longer than he was married to regular old me. I don't know how or why he does it. I mean, we can't go anywhere together that he does not have to offer me his arm and help me up from chairs. All the cooking and cleaning he has done could rival Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom. I'm very high maintenance. On the other hand, I totally get all of his M.A.S.H. references, make enchiladas and chili verde that he loooves, and let him go crazy on his car obsession. Okay, there is more to it, on both sides, than that but you get the idea. I give him all the credit for keeping this family together and happy. Good thing, too, because I really like him.
A few days before Christmas I stated feeling pain in my neck. I chalked it up to sleeping weird
and took an Advil. It didn't help. I rarely feel my migraines as strongly as I used to but I got one and it about knocked me flat. Not the best timing. Robert kept telling me to have it checked out. But not wanting to be a bother, I did my best to ignore it. Then on Christmas day I was at my mom's house and she and my sister got wind of it and made me promise to get it looked at. I was still unconvinced. On the way home Robert suggested that I text my doctor to just ask. He advised me to go to the E.R. Great. Robert and I headed there at around 10 that night. We ended up staying all night. Poor Robert had only a hard chair and we were both awake all night. Good because, like most parents, we had a good, full nights rest the night before. Not really. Robert was texting my doctor (who was at his sick daughters house) with updates, I was texting my friend, Karen, who happens to be my doctors wife, and they were texting each other so nobody got much sleep. I had a CT Angio with contrast and it showed that my carotid artery had dissected and was 70% occluded. Wonderful. Vertebral artery dissection was what caused my first stroke. We caught it and I was already on aspirin (I honestly love the taste of that stuff) so no strokes. Yet. They had plans to admit me but my Neurologist came in and told me that there was nothing I could do there that I couldn't do at home. Start Plavix as well as aspirin and GO HOME!!!! I was so happy to get out of there but also so worried and confused. Nothing for 33 years and then 2 different arteries dissect in 8 years? Why? I had more tests, more brain scans and ultrasounds and everything came back totally normal. I was okay knowing that childbirth had caused the dissection but now there are two and no one seems to know why. Now I feel like a ticking time bomb. I wear a medical I.D. bracelet, can't go skydiving (Robert loves it and had almost talked me in to it), and won't vacation where there isn't a close hospital. I'm much more aware of things now and am on high alert. At least I know the symptoms and am already on anti coagulants so having another stroke my biggest worry right now. I swear my body is 100 instead of 42.
Speaking of which, I am now the same age as Skip was when he abused me. Robert has been 42 for nearly a year and it didn't even bother me. But now that I am, it has me thinking. My oldest is 13. I look at his friends and think, they are just babies! How could someone of my age be attracted to someone that age? I'll never understand pedophilia and I never will and I never want to.
For a big part of this year I was angry. I was angry that my body was betraying me and I was mad at God for letting this happen. I sure wasn't fun to be around. I don't know why I am so dense sometimes. I was totally missing all the good things. I actually had so much to be thankful for. I'm thankful for family (even in-laws!!!) who jump in and bring meals or watch kids while I'm at appointments, a husband who takes off work just because he wants to knows the doctor will be calling and he doesn't want me to be alone and kids who pray for me and support me in their own little ways. But mostly I am thankful to my Father in Heaven to whom I can just pour out my heart and not try to act happy or strong. I've prayed in a lot of interesting places for some pretty strange reasons and He always hears and answers me. He takes good care of my little family.
See? It's tough bein' me.
for me .But whatever, I'm good now so...better late than never.
a few years ago Robert and saw a documentary about Karl Malone. He's very entertaining. He was complaining about things that were hard in his life that Robert and I were just laughing because the things he was saying were ridiculous! Then he said what just be one of the best things he ever said. "It's tough bein' Karl Malone." We could not stop laughing! Now whenever somebody complains about something trivial, like "My cars heated steering wheel won't turn on." we always say that it's tough bein' Karl Malone. The same idea applies here. I was focusing so much on the negative that I was ignoring the overwhelming good all around me.
On October 30 2015 it became official, Robert has been married to strokey me longer than he was married to regular old me. I don't know how or why he does it. I mean, we can't go anywhere together that he does not have to offer me his arm and help me up from chairs. All the cooking and cleaning he has done could rival Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom. I'm very high maintenance. On the other hand, I totally get all of his M.A.S.H. references, make enchiladas and chili verde that he loooves, and let him go crazy on his car obsession. Okay, there is more to it, on both sides, than that but you get the idea. I give him all the credit for keeping this family together and happy. Good thing, too, because I really like him.
A few days before Christmas I stated feeling pain in my neck. I chalked it up to sleeping weird
and took an Advil. It didn't help. I rarely feel my migraines as strongly as I used to but I got one and it about knocked me flat. Not the best timing. Robert kept telling me to have it checked out. But not wanting to be a bother, I did my best to ignore it. Then on Christmas day I was at my mom's house and she and my sister got wind of it and made me promise to get it looked at. I was still unconvinced. On the way home Robert suggested that I text my doctor to just ask. He advised me to go to the E.R. Great. Robert and I headed there at around 10 that night. We ended up staying all night. Poor Robert had only a hard chair and we were both awake all night. Good because, like most parents, we had a good, full nights rest the night before. Not really. Robert was texting my doctor (who was at his sick daughters house) with updates, I was texting my friend, Karen, who happens to be my doctors wife, and they were texting each other so nobody got much sleep. I had a CT Angio with contrast and it showed that my carotid artery had dissected and was 70% occluded. Wonderful. Vertebral artery dissection was what caused my first stroke. We caught it and I was already on aspirin (I honestly love the taste of that stuff) so no strokes. Yet. They had plans to admit me but my Neurologist came in and told me that there was nothing I could do there that I couldn't do at home. Start Plavix as well as aspirin and GO HOME!!!! I was so happy to get out of there but also so worried and confused. Nothing for 33 years and then 2 different arteries dissect in 8 years? Why? I had more tests, more brain scans and ultrasounds and everything came back totally normal. I was okay knowing that childbirth had caused the dissection but now there are two and no one seems to know why. Now I feel like a ticking time bomb. I wear a medical I.D. bracelet, can't go skydiving (Robert loves it and had almost talked me in to it), and won't vacation where there isn't a close hospital. I'm much more aware of things now and am on high alert. At least I know the symptoms and am already on anti coagulants so having another stroke my biggest worry right now. I swear my body is 100 instead of 42.
Speaking of which, I am now the same age as Skip was when he abused me. Robert has been 42 for nearly a year and it didn't even bother me. But now that I am, it has me thinking. My oldest is 13. I look at his friends and think, they are just babies! How could someone of my age be attracted to someone that age? I'll never understand pedophilia and I never will and I never want to.
For a big part of this year I was angry. I was angry that my body was betraying me and I was mad at God for letting this happen. I sure wasn't fun to be around. I don't know why I am so dense sometimes. I was totally missing all the good things. I actually had so much to be thankful for. I'm thankful for family (even in-laws!!!) who jump in and bring meals or watch kids while I'm at appointments, a husband who takes off work just because he wants to knows the doctor will be calling and he doesn't want me to be alone and kids who pray for me and support me in their own little ways. But mostly I am thankful to my Father in Heaven to whom I can just pour out my heart and not try to act happy or strong. I've prayed in a lot of interesting places for some pretty strange reasons and He always hears and answers me. He takes good care of my little family.
See? It's tough bein' me.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
For Craig
This is a very simplified version of my dating history but it gives an idea.
When I was old enough to date, (ok. maybe a few months before) I dated guys who I may not have dated if I had never met skip. I didn't have much of a self esteem and didn't feel that I deserved to be treated well or date the "good" guys. I am still friends with some of those boys so I don't want to say too many mean things but they were as respectable as I thought I was. If I did get asked out by someone who, if they knew the real me, would be repulsed, I was uncomfortable and found ways to make sure our first date was our last. I think I was lucky because Jed was in my same school and, out of respect for him, the boys thought twice about how they treated me. Otherwise, I could have been in trouble. There was one boy of whom I thought the world and with whom I had a lot of fun. We had a lot in common like our love of old movies and jumping off our deck onto the trampoline. Okay, really he ripped his hand open doing that but we had fun at the Emergency Room. But I put the brakes on that before he could see what I was really like.
About a year later I met a boy with whom I fell breathlessly in love. He was leaving for his mission in two months time so there was little chance of my big secret coming out. Also, I had some serious trust issues so a long term relationship was more than I ever thought possible. But two months I could handle and he was one of the "good ones" We both threw ourselves into the relationship with all of our hearts. It was the kind of thing where he would leave his car open because he was in such a hurry to get to my door and I even tagged along to his college class with him because we didn't want to be apart. I promised I would wait for him and we even picked a wedding date for shortly after he got back.
When he left and all we could do was write, my secret was still safe and the relationship was still safe for me to be in.
But when he got home it all fell apart. Suddenly things were real. My subconsious stopped me from giving it my all. I thought was a horrible person and men were the enemy so the relationship stood no chance. I started pulling away and playing games, secretly hoping that he would put up a fight for us but with the way I was acting, he probably didn't dare put himself out there. Every time he didn't react like I wanted, I lost a little more trust in him and our chances. I even left for San Antonio for a month or so just to prove a point. I don't know what that point was but I felt it necessary to prove it. When he didn't even call me and failed to acknowledge my birthday, I knew it was over. Oh I didn't want it to be. I was desperately in love with him but at the same time felt that I had already had an affair, was damaged goods and therefor undeserving of him. We gave it a half- hearted try after that but deep down I knew it could never work because I was so messed up that I honestly felt that I was not worthy of a good, healthy relationship.
Contrast that with how my relationship came to be with Robert. I had been through the court system, therapy, and at least one healthy relationship. When I met him I thought he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. Unfortunately, so did my good friend. I was still under confident and she was, well all the guys seemed to like her. So I got to see how he treated her. And many girls after that. He was never alone for long before some girl would come after him. He was rarely the instigator but there always seemed to be plenty of girls vying for his attention. He treated them all nicely and was very honest and respectful of them but was choosy about with whom he spent his time. He considered me a good friend-one of the guys. I used to be included in conversations about his ex-true love, what he wanted in life, how school was going, why or why he didn't like certain girls etc. I also saw how he treated his family, as well as others. I saw the way he lived his religion, how he viewed the world, his honesty, his humor, as well as many other traits I grew to love. We saw each other often the first few months and then nearly every day for nearly two years. I got to see more than I would if we were dating and we were both putting our best feet forward.
After a year or so I realized how important he was to me and told him that I thought of him romantically, He let me know that he just didn't feel the same way. He was honest, respectful, and kind. I was hurt, yes, but I was also totally impressed by his actions!
It was only a few months later that I started spending time with a different guy. We had even talked about a future together. But I was still hanging out with Robert, fully understanding that we we would always be just friends. Then one Sunday night (June 13th to be exact) we were just watching T.V. when we kissed. After that there was no thought of the other guy (sorry Justin). Robert and I were inseparable. He knew all about me, even some things I wish he didn't, like my secretly liking Barry Manilow, and he never questioned my worthiness or my truthfulness. He hated what had been done TO me and was not shy about it. Whenever I would have a moment of self doubt, he would put up just enough of a fight for us to let me know he was 100% in this with me. I wasn't afraid to love him with my all because I already knew his character. It was a foregone conclusion that we would get hitched and I had my dress and veil even before we got engaged. In the last 17 years, his love for me has never faltered. Even when I was dead set on his divorcing me after the stroke, (it would have been so much easier for him) he just wouldn't. My room faced the elevators and around 5 that evening, a huge bouquet with legs got off the elevator and walked into my room. he kissed me and said, "I can handle anything but DON'T YOU EVER LEAVE ME!" There is a song by Sheryl Crow called "Are you strong enough to be my man?" Robert is the only man I have ever met who is.
When I was old enough to date, (ok. maybe a few months before) I dated guys who I may not have dated if I had never met skip. I didn't have much of a self esteem and didn't feel that I deserved to be treated well or date the "good" guys. I am still friends with some of those boys so I don't want to say too many mean things but they were as respectable as I thought I was. If I did get asked out by someone who, if they knew the real me, would be repulsed, I was uncomfortable and found ways to make sure our first date was our last. I think I was lucky because Jed was in my same school and, out of respect for him, the boys thought twice about how they treated me. Otherwise, I could have been in trouble. There was one boy of whom I thought the world and with whom I had a lot of fun. We had a lot in common like our love of old movies and jumping off our deck onto the trampoline. Okay, really he ripped his hand open doing that but we had fun at the Emergency Room. But I put the brakes on that before he could see what I was really like.
About a year later I met a boy with whom I fell breathlessly in love. He was leaving for his mission in two months time so there was little chance of my big secret coming out. Also, I had some serious trust issues so a long term relationship was more than I ever thought possible. But two months I could handle and he was one of the "good ones" We both threw ourselves into the relationship with all of our hearts. It was the kind of thing where he would leave his car open because he was in such a hurry to get to my door and I even tagged along to his college class with him because we didn't want to be apart. I promised I would wait for him and we even picked a wedding date for shortly after he got back.
When he left and all we could do was write, my secret was still safe and the relationship was still safe for me to be in.
But when he got home it all fell apart. Suddenly things were real. My subconsious stopped me from giving it my all. I thought was a horrible person and men were the enemy so the relationship stood no chance. I started pulling away and playing games, secretly hoping that he would put up a fight for us but with the way I was acting, he probably didn't dare put himself out there. Every time he didn't react like I wanted, I lost a little more trust in him and our chances. I even left for San Antonio for a month or so just to prove a point. I don't know what that point was but I felt it necessary to prove it. When he didn't even call me and failed to acknowledge my birthday, I knew it was over. Oh I didn't want it to be. I was desperately in love with him but at the same time felt that I had already had an affair, was damaged goods and therefor undeserving of him. We gave it a half- hearted try after that but deep down I knew it could never work because I was so messed up that I honestly felt that I was not worthy of a good, healthy relationship.
Contrast that with how my relationship came to be with Robert. I had been through the court system, therapy, and at least one healthy relationship. When I met him I thought he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. Unfortunately, so did my good friend. I was still under confident and she was, well all the guys seemed to like her. So I got to see how he treated her. And many girls after that. He was never alone for long before some girl would come after him. He was rarely the instigator but there always seemed to be plenty of girls vying for his attention. He treated them all nicely and was very honest and respectful of them but was choosy about with whom he spent his time. He considered me a good friend-one of the guys. I used to be included in conversations about his ex-true love, what he wanted in life, how school was going, why or why he didn't like certain girls etc. I also saw how he treated his family, as well as others. I saw the way he lived his religion, how he viewed the world, his honesty, his humor, as well as many other traits I grew to love. We saw each other often the first few months and then nearly every day for nearly two years. I got to see more than I would if we were dating and we were both putting our best feet forward.
After a year or so I realized how important he was to me and told him that I thought of him romantically, He let me know that he just didn't feel the same way. He was honest, respectful, and kind. I was hurt, yes, but I was also totally impressed by his actions!
It was only a few months later that I started spending time with a different guy. We had even talked about a future together. But I was still hanging out with Robert, fully understanding that we we would always be just friends. Then one Sunday night (June 13th to be exact) we were just watching T.V. when we kissed. After that there was no thought of the other guy (sorry Justin). Robert and I were inseparable. He knew all about me, even some things I wish he didn't, like my secretly liking Barry Manilow, and he never questioned my worthiness or my truthfulness. He hated what had been done TO me and was not shy about it. Whenever I would have a moment of self doubt, he would put up just enough of a fight for us to let me know he was 100% in this with me. I wasn't afraid to love him with my all because I already knew his character. It was a foregone conclusion that we would get hitched and I had my dress and veil even before we got engaged. In the last 17 years, his love for me has never faltered. Even when I was dead set on his divorcing me after the stroke, (it would have been so much easier for him) he just wouldn't. My room faced the elevators and around 5 that evening, a huge bouquet with legs got off the elevator and walked into my room. he kissed me and said, "I can handle anything but DON'T YOU EVER LEAVE ME!" There is a song by Sheryl Crow called "Are you strong enough to be my man?" Robert is the only man I have ever met who is.
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