Denise and I share the most amazing good days. We always have. From the most relaxing days doing nothing in front of the T.V., the days of travel and mischief, the serene picnics, and the random walks. The good days are better than good, they are what marriage is all about. The moments that nobody else can possibly know about. The looks that you give one another that speak paragraphs without noise. The gentle, and sometimes, not so gentle, touching. The inside jokes that other people give you weird looks about. The off the chart comments that only you two understand. The random one liners from 'The Family Guy!' These are usually all the unmentionables, but in this case, I don't want them to go unmentioned.
These days are confusing because they make you forget reality. I'm not the one that feels the physical pain, I forget that it can show it's ugly face at any moment. It sneaks up on you, on me, on her. I have to mobilize immediately, without warning, to caretaker. I love being the caretaker, but I'm not always sure what needs to happen. It could be anything. More water, more meds, more love, a hug, a nap, food, moxa, too hot, too cold, a pillow, a joke or a shoulder to cry on. I rarely get it right on the first try. It's frustrating to not understand what she's going through. I can see the pain, but can't possibly know what it feels like.
As these tough days go on, and become more sporadic after a treatment cycle, I wait for another good day. I wait for another moment to forget reality and get back to the good days of losing myself in her eyes. I want so much for those eyes to always be focused on me. I look forward to the good days of knocking off our 'todo' list of places to travel. I want more good days of camping. I can't wait for more good days of walking with Tigris. I will revel in the good days of laughter. Hopefully, they will one day not be so confusing, and I will have a wife that doesn't have to face the good with the bad.
