This is the sixth installment of the story of Dave's miraculous recovery from a traumatic brain injury he sustained in July 2005.
1st installment - About Dave's Brain Injury
2nd installment - The Electrical Current
3rd installment - The Prognosis
4th installment - Dave...what are you doing here?
5th installment - The Visit with the Neurologist
A few weeks ago, Dave and I celebrated our 32nd wedding anniversary. When you consider that we dated for 5 1/2 years before we got married...well, I've known this man for a really long time. When anyone asks how we've managed to stay together for so long - I attribute it to some words of wisdom a dear older friend gave me back when Dave and I were engaged. I opened up to her about some trepidation I was having as our wedding date drew near.
"I know I love Dave," I remember telling her, "but it's not the heart-pounding, take-your-breath-away kind of love I always imagined it would be."
Mr friend, who had been married for several years, looked me in the eye and said, "Trish...it's not so much that you fall in love with someone, it's that you choose to love someone. Passion will subside in a marriage. That's when you have to make the choice to love the person you committed to spending the rest of your life with."
Those words have carried Dave and me through some tough times over the years. Times of anger, resentment, and frustration. Times when the feeling of love just wasn't there. That's when we made the conscious decision to love each other. And every single time the feeling has come back. I mean, really...it's amazing what can happen when you brush that chip off your shoulder, walk up to your spouse and simply give him a hug. The transformation can be magical.
The fact that Dave and I stayed together through better and for worse was a huge factor when the in-sickness-and-in-health part hit us so unexpectedly nine years ago. I was suddenly thrust into the role of being Dave's advocate. But, after 23 years of marriage, I knew him inside and out. I spoke for him, I fought for him, I guided his rehab, and I guarded his pride. To this day, when Dave can't remember a certain word or phrase, he just looks over at me (or calls me on the phone) and I can immediately fill in the blank.
Now that it's been nine years after Dave's accident, I can't help but admit it's challenging living with a brain-injured husband. But Dave summed up our relationship perfectly a few years ago when we were getting ready for a huge gathering at our house. I was so frustrated with him for not getting to the list of chores I had for him. I marched outside looking for him and there he was...trimming our rose bushes - a job that wasn't even on the list! "What are you doing???" I yelled. "He looked up at me and, with a deadpan look on his face, said, "I beg your pardon, but I never promised you a rose garden." Oh my gosh...I busted out laughing and couldn't stop. That's been our theme song ever since.
Dang, but I love this man. And he loves me. And we always will - no matter what. Because that's our choice.
1st installment - About Dave's Brain Injury
2nd installment - The Electrical Current
3rd installment - The Prognosis
4th installment - Dave...what are you doing here?
5th installment - The Visit with the Neurologist
A few weeks ago, Dave and I celebrated our 32nd wedding anniversary. When you consider that we dated for 5 1/2 years before we got married...well, I've known this man for a really long time. When anyone asks how we've managed to stay together for so long - I attribute it to some words of wisdom a dear older friend gave me back when Dave and I were engaged. I opened up to her about some trepidation I was having as our wedding date drew near.
"I know I love Dave," I remember telling her, "but it's not the heart-pounding, take-your-breath-away kind of love I always imagined it would be."
Mr friend, who had been married for several years, looked me in the eye and said, "Trish...it's not so much that you fall in love with someone, it's that you choose to love someone. Passion will subside in a marriage. That's when you have to make the choice to love the person you committed to spending the rest of your life with."
Those words have carried Dave and me through some tough times over the years. Times of anger, resentment, and frustration. Times when the feeling of love just wasn't there. That's when we made the conscious decision to love each other. And every single time the feeling has come back. I mean, really...it's amazing what can happen when you brush that chip off your shoulder, walk up to your spouse and simply give him a hug. The transformation can be magical.
The fact that Dave and I stayed together through better and for worse was a huge factor when the in-sickness-and-in-health part hit us so unexpectedly nine years ago. I was suddenly thrust into the role of being Dave's advocate. But, after 23 years of marriage, I knew him inside and out. I spoke for him, I fought for him, I guided his rehab, and I guarded his pride. To this day, when Dave can't remember a certain word or phrase, he just looks over at me (or calls me on the phone) and I can immediately fill in the blank.
Now that it's been nine years after Dave's accident, I can't help but admit it's challenging living with a brain-injured husband. But Dave summed up our relationship perfectly a few years ago when we were getting ready for a huge gathering at our house. I was so frustrated with him for not getting to the list of chores I had for him. I marched outside looking for him and there he was...trimming our rose bushes - a job that wasn't even on the list! "What are you doing???" I yelled. "He looked up at me and, with a deadpan look on his face, said, "I beg your pardon, but I never promised you a rose garden." Oh my gosh...I busted out laughing and couldn't stop. That's been our theme song ever since.
Dang, but I love this man. And he loves me. And we always will - no matter what. Because that's our choice.
Where to go from here?
Today's blog posting marks the end of the experiences I've felt compelled to share about Dave's brain injury. Does this mean it's the end of the blog? Do I try to explain what life has been like over the last nine years? I'm not sure. But I'll think about it and I'll pray about it. - and you may very well be hearing from me again.
Finally sharing these stories after so many years has been cathartic for me and for Dave. Thank you for being a part of our journey. And thank God for giving us the strength, guidance and even miracles to get to where we are today.
With much love,
Tricia
Today's blog posting marks the end of the experiences I've felt compelled to share about Dave's brain injury. Does this mean it's the end of the blog? Do I try to explain what life has been like over the last nine years? I'm not sure. But I'll think about it and I'll pray about it. - and you may very well be hearing from me again.
Finally sharing these stories after so many years has been cathartic for me and for Dave. Thank you for being a part of our journey. And thank God for giving us the strength, guidance and even miracles to get to where we are today.
With much love,
Tricia