I will always praise God for all the days of my life. I can never be humble enough, thankful enough, or even be able to say how much I love Him.
When Michael, my husband, pushed my wheelchair back to my hospital room today, I began to think of the suffering he has endured since my emergency fiasco. He was with me from the beginning and has been with me as much as possible to this day.
When I thought my schedule was grueling, I began to think of Michael’s since the day I was admitted to the hospital. He is a heavy equipment mechanic and shop boss for a local company. He saw me in horrific pain and was unable to take it away. He told me he broke down once, and he rarely does that.
His work is backbreaking and diverse. He awakes at 5AM and lets the dog out and then washes his face, shaves, etc. When the dog has done her business he prepares her food and gets that task done.
Before he can leave he gathers all the items I have asked him to bring to me in the evening. He also usually has a load of cleanly washed clothes to fetch and fold.
The job is ten miles from home. Michael’s talents are not simply heavy equipment repair, but a myriad of other “body taxing” jobs throughout the day. The day is usually twelve hours, give or take a few minutes.
Of course he has already called at noon to check in on me and see how I am doing for the day. After work he drives the ten miles and then another five or six miles to the hospital.
I light up when he comes in the door and though I tell him “Don’t come over tonight”, he knows it is the highlight of my day. He usually brings thoughtful and useful things to keep my spirit up. Whatever I ask him to bring he also packs and delivers the items.
As the weekdays pass Michael begins to look exhausted. I can tell the days his back is just killing him. But still he comes every night, faithfully.
He stays until I have to say, “Go home honey. You still have to take care of the dog, shower, and get ready for tomorrow. “ He’s been grabbing junk food every night since this happened. It’s usually cold by the time he eats it.
On the weekends he does all the household chores, manicures the lawns and trims the trees. He does much more.
Today he brought “normalcy” to my seemingly endless hospital routines.
He pushed me in the wheelchair to a small refuge called “Angel’s Camp”.
The small park is big enough for one picnic table and two benches. It
Is surrounded by green trees and bushes – tall and small. It has a creek
still running hard from recent rains.
He also brought my dog and let me visit with her. She’s my baby and I loved seeing her. In a picnic box he brought water, pop, oranges, dog treats (so I could feed her), and fresh strawberries all ready to eat.
My family was on an outing and the dismal feelings I had last night dissipated into oblivion. My dog knows I am injured. She was polite and loving and laid next to me for a time. When it was time to leave, just before he was going to put her in the car, she ran over for a last love and buried her face on my legs while I pet her again.
I told Michael he didn’t have to come by tonight as this had been wonderful.
He said, “I love you. I’ll see you tonight, and remember-whatever the results of this hard time it is our lives now and we will make it together.”
I can never praise him enough for his steadfast love for me. He’s seen me in
the most dire of circumstances, and hasn’t blinked an eye. “I love your heart and your mind” he’ll remind me, “and those things never change.”
I THANK YOU GOD FOR LIFE , AND I THANK GOD, FOR MICHAEL IN MY LIFE.