There's no question that I am in a rut. I sit around all day, healing from this heart surgery thing.
My life is the same every day. For the first two weeks, I faithfully showered and dressed for my day each and every morning, as if I might have somewhere to go. This regimen was supposed to help with my healing process. I'm guessing it was working, but I've gotten a little impatient. The last couple of days I haven't bothered with the shower and changing out of jammies routine. This morning I got a look at myself when I was trying to set up a video chat with a friend. I couldn't see her, but my face was front and center on the screen. To me, I looked like a tired out hag. Cringing, I warned my friend not to be too horrified when the video of me came through. The hag look shouldn't have been a big shocker, I'm aware I haven't put any effort into how I look lately. Sure, I have daily visitors, but I haven't been thinking about how I look to them. My husband is another matter. Generally, I try to look nice for him. He's the one person, besides me, whose opinion on my appearance is important to me.
This afternoon, sitting on the couch with my scrabble game on my lap, covered in tissues and popsicle sticks, my sweetheart breezed into the house. Just the sound of his work boots striding across the hardwood floor lifted my spirits. When he came into my line of sight I could see that he was taken aback when he saw me, and he said, "Wow, you look beautiful". It was hard to believe him. I challenged him. "No", he said, "You really look beautiful", and I knew he believed it. So, I believed it. No matter how crummy I feel, or look to myself, I am beautiful to this guy, this guy who loves me.
The other day, Brent commented that I should put him into my blog more. I thought about why I didn't include him more often. He is the center of my universe after all. My conclusion was that I couldn't infuse my feelings for him with humor. Lately, every moment together has been too precious, and terribly serious. The idea that without my surgery, I wouldn't live much longer was such a present force with us, that we have been in serious "Cherish" mode. My thoughts about him, about us seemed too private. None the less, I have been thinking about what he said. I should include him more, and not just when I am revealing his inability to see a clothes hamper, or his lack of knowledge concerning toilet brushes. As far as writing material goes, Brent is a writers dream. There is so much to say, and I guess, I don't always have to be funny.
Stepping up. That is what this guy, who loves me above all others, has done the last couple of months. The moment the doctor told us that my condition was severe, and surgery could not be put off much longer, Brent stepped up. He became a man on a mission to take care of, and love me. There are countless examples of his diligent attentiveness, and I look forward to sharing them in the future.
May peace and a true love be yours from: The Goddess of Everything