Don's last few days have been very difficult for him. His legs are increasingly weak. So much so, in fact, that he couldn't even walk up the steps from the garage to the kitchen carrying a McDonald's bag and soda the other day. He had to set everything down, get himself up the stairs, then let me go back and get the stuff. His voice is no better, and that's beginning to frustrate him as well. He's mentioned the surgery a couple times lately, but I'm not ready to go there yet. I was so weary and teary Sunday and had stopped in the vestibule of church to chat with a couple lady friends. I was immediately humbled. One of the ladies, several years younger than I, had lost her husband a while back to a several years' fight with diabetes. She, herself, is legally blind from the same illness. But spunky! My goodness, she's spunky. The other lady's husband was injured in a motorcycle accident and lay in a coma for three months before passing from this earth. She faced all kinds of ups and downs during that three-month period. As I talked with them, I felt so blessed. I'm weary. Don's weary. But, he's functioning, and I'm still able to live a somewhat normal life. We've had to greatly limit our activities, but we're still able to spend wonderful time together. In fact, I believe we've become closer than ever, if that's possible.
I turned my heart God-ward after my time talking to my friends. I asked God to bless each of them, as only He can, and to give them the strength they need to face every day. I'm sure either of them would give all they own to spend one more day with their loved one, even if he couldn't walk and talked with a raspy hoarse voice. Don and I are going through a trial, but we're blessed.