The first time was not long after our wedding — second one for me (64), divorcee and for him (70), widower.
The den where he sits in his recliner and watches television is open to a hallway that connects the kitchen to a large room I use as my office/library. One day as I was walking to my office with my coffee, I heard him on the phone say, “I hardly get any fruits or vegetables.”
I stopped dead in my tracks and thought about the bowl of fresh fruit on the kitchen table and the vegetable side dishes I would serve along with salads.
When I confronted him about the remark, he didn’t understand why I was upset. I tried to explain and he just didn’t get that saying something like that didn’t make me seem like a very good wife.
And then today I heard this, “Mitzi doen’t want me watching TV because it bothers her.” Well, that’s true — the news is not good for my hypertension, my bad back is only comfortable on the loveseat in the den, and I cannot read with noise. But the truth is we got him special headphones that connect to the TV so he can watch and hear while I can sit there with him and read.
Our marriage has consisted of several health problems for him and one stroke for me.
I do believe my stroke came with the stress of trying to get him to use his C-pap machine and mask — it was a struggle for two weeks in December and then came my stroke. He’d made up his mind he wasn’t going to do it but put me through hell in the meantime.
I’ve now told him not to mention my name to anyone because whatever he says is the truth turned around.
I do love him.
I savd his life when I was 3000 miles away before we were married. I’d call him every night — one night he didn’t make sense — I was afraid he’d had a stroke so I called his daughter. He’d been stung by a bee and being high allergic had developed a severe reaction, an anaphyllactic shock.
He’s had several hospitalizations, several surgeries, and I’ve cared for him through it all.
I do love him and maybe his cyclinders aren’t all firing; he is almost 80.
But do not talk about me — do NOT! Or ele jut tsell people how beautful I am.