I think one of the hopes many of us have is that this year will be "better" than last. We'll make more money, we'll get healthier, we'll go to the gym, we'll be all around better people. My wife is on the phone as I write this and just said to a friend, "what I know is 2012 will not be better than 2011".
For her and the inevitable physical toll her disease will continue to take there is no clean slate. Just a certainty that the downward spiral will continue. But as I listen to her voice, she's so connected to this person on the phone. She's really living the life she has. And that's inspiration enough to me that maybe my life will be richer if I muster the courage to be there to help her.
Last week I had lunch with a domme friend who suggested I read a series from the New York Times Magazine about regular people who died this year. I recommend it too. My wife and I read the series together this morning. She cried so much at the first couple that she couldn't make it through the series. Each highlighted how death can strangely provide hope. We all face it. Our own and the death of those we love. As the article suggested, death is the most democratic of experiences.
So my hope is that I can be there and go the distance. Since I hope it will be a long haul, I have to figure out how to take care of myself as well as take care of her. Shrink has a care giver group for me. So far I'm not moving back in with my wife entirely; so I have my bachelor digs in the West Village. And I've got friends.
So in the midst of the reality that for my wife 2012 will not be a "better" year - for me - it may be awful enrichment.
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