A Husband's Love

He opens the sticky door to their apartment. She slowly takes steps, one at a time, watching the floor, the welcome mat, the slight bump to the outside. He takes her cane and goes down the steps while she looks and watches him. She patiently waits at the top step, not holding anything but the rail is there waiting for her. He rushes up the stairs, wanting to be right with her.
She smiles.

She says "Ready?" He says "Yes" She takes her step, right foot first then left foot right beside the right. Again, right foot first then left foot, holding the rail with her left hand to steady herself. One step at a time. He is right in front of her, taking one step backwards with each of hers. Almost as a dance but she leads the pace. Fourteen steps, one at a time. Some days slow and some days faster. He gives her a kiss when they get to the last step. He grabs the cane with four feet and hands it to her. She places her small hand on the cane and continues to walk down the path. The wind blowing in her ponytail and she hopes that the wind does not blow her down. She steadies herself and he waits.

They arrive at the car, he opens the door, she gets in with ease and he puts the cane on the back seat. He helps her buckle the seat belt, sometimes help not needed but today she needs him. She says "Thank you." She looks out the window amazed at how the world looks different outside than from their apartment window. When they go anywhere she wants to look at everything. Most of the time he is taking her to doctor visits and therapy lessons. He took her on a few adventures to a restaurant, the mall and to church, all on good days. He is always making sure she is safe. Today it is just a ride. He leans over and kisses her while stopped at a busy stop light.

They come back to their apartment and the routine starts again. Grab the cane, open the door, wait patiently as she stands up and places her cane in her left hand. One day he will be able to hold her hand instead. For now, it is wait, watch, protect, be her support. Up the stairs, one step at a time, left foot first, then right foot, left hand reaching across to grab the rail, right hand tries but lets go. He is right behind her, walking one step at a time. He opens the door after reaching the top and watches her walk over the bump, the mat onto the carpet. Whew they are home.

I love my husband. All he does for me and our family. The cooking, cleaning, laundry, the cats needs, homework for daughter, making sure we have our medicines, and much more. All the things I use to do he has picked up. Not everything gets done but I've learned that life is so much more than a clean house. He calms me down and helps me when I need help. Not a traditional family setup but one that works for us. He knows I still have issues but he loves me still. Thank You Father for my husband!