It has taken most of our twenty year marriage to release the icy grip of control I have had on my life and let Serge take care of me occasionally. At an altitude of 7500 feet somewhere between Roanoke and Charlotte, the release comes and it occurs to me - for the first time in the five days - that I might have to take care of him.
If you had asked me before, I would have matter-of-factly recited to you the statistical probability that I would outlive him by 7 years and therefore, of course, at some point be his care giver. But from a practical standpoint I never considered it.
This is the man that while (more than once) catching the throw up of our children, did not catch the viruses. He evades most illnesses, has never had the flu, nor surgery, nor anything else on those pesky forms. In answer to all of the hospital questions about medical history, the answers were no and no and no.
My vision of our old age was of me sitting in a wheel chair in the sun keeping him company while he constructed the handicap ramp to our front door.
One of the most grace-filled and stunning things to come out of the past two weeks is the beautiful responses of people who love us and care for us. It has just been humbling. Interestingly, many others felt the same things I did - "Serge? sick? no way".
However our story ends, undoubtably not as I expect, I am so, so thankful for the friends and family who love us, and the priviledge of being married to my mostly invincible husband!