Still..

 7:30PM and he’s out like a light.  Watching him sleep gives me peace.  Figuratively and literally.

We had a rough week with lots of anger, angst and anxiety.  At every turn, we just couldn’t get it right.  His distress skyrockets my anxiety.. and ya’ll… I’m menopausal!  The last thing my middle-aged, “fluffy” self needs is more Cortisol!  

But, I digress…

I do my best (and worst) thinking while he sleeps.  I think about “what-if” and worry about what hasn’t happened yet.  Will he suffer?  Will he be scared? Will he be in pain?  Will I lose my mind by keeping him at home until the end, like I promised? I stress about who I will be when he’s gone.  Will I feel guilty because I didn’t do more or better?  Oh, the vicious cycle of it all.

Then, I remember, he’s still healthy and able bodied.  He is still my dude.  He still remembers everybody. He still loves to laugh and is the life of the party.  He still helps (ok, folds) with the laundry.  He still tries to make the bed.  Thankfully, he still likes to travel. He still talks about how proud he is of our children and granddaughters.  But, best of all…

He is still in love with me♥️

Cheers!


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