Yesterday, we had company come over for dinner and to just hang out on the porch.  Between bouts of working, I went up and down the stairs to make the various things we would have for dinner.

In and around that, G cleaned the house and sang all day. She sings when she’s happy. She can’t carry a tune in a bucket, bless her heart, and she doesn’t really know the words to any songs, but when I hear her singing and washing the dishes or singing and vacuuming or singing and dusting, mopping, sorting and straightening, the sound goes right to my heart.  It means she’s happy.  It means she feels safe.  It means she’s doing something she loves doing, something she wants to do, something that gives her pleasure.  I’d rather hear her sing upstairs doing chores than listen to any recording artist.

Since we got back from Jerome, things have been better, easier between us. We’re into our 9th year and for me, this is the longest and by far the best relationship I’ve ever had.  Having her help me with my swim training is a great thing too.  She keeps me motivated, and she’s helping me stay safe.  I could not do the lake training without her.  Her willingness to help and support me in anything I take on humbles me.

We’ve become more affectionate, more flirty.  It’s fun and it’s a relief.  I think we both forgot how much we missed that.  We’re laughing more, planning more.  Tuesday, we’re going to Taos with our friends who came to dinner, just because I mentioned it last night.  Spur of the moment, hey, let’s do Taos for lunch!  We haven’t done that kind of thing in a long time, alone or with anyone, and it’s great.

She’s going to have a surgical procedure in July and we are both very optimistic that it will help her awful acid trouble. This is not VA–she took it on herself to find a well qualified doctor in Denver and thankfully, Medicare will cover it. I continue to marvel at how she pushes through these issues that would cripple other people. She simply will not give up on her goal of having her life as full and complete as she can make it.

We’re working on not making other family members or other people in our lives an excuse to be drawn apart.  We’re working on being very open and transparent about finances and how to help each other change habits that aren’t so great around that touchy subject.  I can be open with her in ways I’ve never managed with anyone else.

She is my comfort.  She is my heart.  There are times when I stand in the yard and look around at the incredible, beautiful place that she has created here, for us, and I’m completely stunned.  And when I tell her how in awe I am, how amazed I am at her capacity for all of it, she just tells me that it’s because of love, because I “let” her, because she wants this beauty and bounty for me, because I deserve it, we deserve it.

How did I get so damn lucky?


5 thoughts on “Comfort

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