Today is Monday, April 12, 2010.
Today I woke up at 4:30am. Hal took his Rilutek and went back to sleep. I got out of bed.
Today I will teach a Spin class, train some clients, and work on my “to do” list.
Today I will try to keep the house in order during our re-model, keeping floor open for Hal’s wheelchair, and trying to keep dust away from his IV supplies. I will give Hal an intravenous infusion. I will work on his tired, sick muscles with a therapeutic massage. I will send my sister Andrea a picture of the new wheelchair ramp she helped us with, and ask for advice on how to keep it from falling apart. I will take a nap during my break.
Today I will pause every now and then to enjoy Hal. His smile, his crinkley eyes, his voice, his silly jokes, his just being there. I will listen to him talk and treasure every word. As I watch him struggle with his cane, his speech, his swallowing, instead of morning his losses, I will be mindful of the many things he can do. I will care for and protect him him when he needs it. I will cherish him. Love him. Hold him. I will celebrate our togetherness. Every moment of it.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life.