Yesterday Was a Good Day

Yesterday was a one of the bad days. Yesterday was a good day.

As I walked into my office this morning I saw all the little things still not done. Some dishes in the sink. Some blankets strewn on the floor.

A package arrived yesterday — some new shades we’d ordered which were delivered by FedEx — and the package is standing on end by the front door, unopened. Implied in that is that the shades were never hung yesterday as I had planned.

A shelf still lies in the garage in the form of 2x4s which still need to be sanded, cut to size, and assembled. It’s a project Michelle and I started weeks ago and one which we had planned, if not to finish, at least make progress on yesterday. And that trip to stock up on a few essentials for our home storage? Neither of those happened.

Here’s a selfie I took this morning. (Good Sabbath, by the way!) I don’t take selfies because I’m a narcissist. I took this photo so I could document yesterday, so please keep reading.

I wish I had taken one yesterday to memorialize my appearance. It was rough. Not just rough–it was ROUGH.

A time or two while putting away clean laundry yesterday, I walked through the master bathroom, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and said to Michelle, “Whew! I look terrible.”

Michelle, who was lying in bed, not five feet from me, smiled and said, “You look pretty.”

“Pretty rough.”

She shook her head gently, smiled, and sincerely said, “No. You’re just pretty.”

She was sincere and it made me smile.

[Edit: Re-reading this post, Michelle calling me “pretty” sounds weird. It would take too much space to give it context, so just know that this is an inside joke between us.]

A couple of weeks ago, Michelle gave a rare glimpse into our life on Facebook. I made the post private, so I won’t link to it here, but here’s what she said:

I’ve been struggling with health issues for a few years now. Some days are better than others, and some days have been really bad. Brian, despite already working hard to support us, has taken over my role as well. He cooks, cleans, does the laundry, and even takes his daughter clothes shopping when needed. It’s been hard for me to be unable to fulfill my role, but he just keeps reassuring me he doesn’t mind and he loves me. I am so grateful to this man that I married nearly 29 years ago, and I’m so grateful we have an eternity together because one lifetime would not be enough. #givethanks

And she shared it with a recent photo we took on one of her good days.

Isn’t she beautiful?

I’m not writing this to brag about myself, or about our marriage. I do love to brag about Michelle, but that’s not why I’m writing this either. I write because it’s cathartic, and because maybe, someone, somewhere, needs to read this so they don’t feel as alone as I sometimes feel, or as alone as Michelle sometimes feel.

Yes, we have each other, but there are things going on with her that, no matter how hard I work to empathize, I just won’t understand, and vice versa.

Because Michelle opened the door with her comment above, I’m going to step through it … It’s raw. It’s unfiltered. It hurts to consider much less talk about. But, again, I hope someone finds this who needs it.

We had plans yesterday and ditched them all

We had plans for yesterday and by 11 am we both knew none of them were going to happen. I took Michelle’s arm and helped her from the living room back into bed.

As we hobbled to our bedroom Michelle cried.

When Michelle cries now, I don’t try to fix it anymore. I used to be the “fixer” which drove her crazy when she just wanted someone to listen. Now, I don’t try to fix it because I can’t. I’m helpless. So, I laid down next to her, kissed her cheek, her shoulder, her arm, and her hand, and said, “It’s going to be okay.” And she nodded.

Hope springs eternal.

A few weeks ago when she cried, I said, “This is all temporary.” She nodded. It is, but, O Lord, how long is temporary?

I did all the chores I had the energy to do. I did Michelle’s and my laundry. Thank goodness the kids do their own laundry now.

I fixed our meals and I was grateful Michelle felt up to eating a few things. Thank goodness the kids took care of their own meals.

I sat in bed next to Michelle and started to get caught up on the accounting for my consulting business. We watched TV together, alternating between movies and TV, serious and comedy. Thank goodness the kids didn’t rely on us to entertain them yesterday. They know what needs to happen when Michelle has a bad day, and I am grateful that they do.

Michelle will read that paragraph above and will feel all the guilt. She might even cry. I wish I could take away her feelings of guilt.

I changed the kitty litter and then swept the wood floors. I didn’t vacuum, but thank goodness some of the kids vacuumed some of the carpet and I didn’t nag them about the rest.

I did a bunch of dishes. But not all of them. The rest are waiting for me today and I am completely fine with that.

We had life plans, but none of them included one of us being sick at age 45

I wish it was me. I wish I could take that burden from her. Though at the same time, I am grateful that I’m able to provide for our temporal needs, and I’m not sure that would be possible if I suffered in the same way Michelle suffers right now.

Here’s a portion of the question asked of me when Michelle and I were sealed in the St. George LDS Temple nearly 30 years ago:

[Will you] receive her unto yourself to be your lawfully wedded wife, for time and all eternity, with a covenant and promise … ?

There’s no mention of “sickness and health”.

I received her unto myself. Her words were similar, and she received me unto herself. The rest is assumed as far as I’m concerned. Sickness. Health. Good times. Bad times. Abundance. Poverty. In the grand scheme of things those are all temporary.

Obviously health, good times, and abundance, make life slightly easier to live. Obviously they are preferred to their opposites. But comfort doesn’t have the power to transform anyone’s soul.

I wasn’t always this way

The first several months of our marriage, Michelle and I really struggled to turn two lives into one life. Our partnership was tempestuous.

Here’s the thing though: I wanted Michelle in my life because she made me want to be a better person.

I won’t say we didn’t nag each other about certain things, because we did. However, in general, over the first 25 years of our marriage, Michelle’s quiet example of devotion and service made me change because I wanted to be worthy of being her husband.

Now, Michelle’s illness has created a whole new dynamic for both of us to change in ways we never expected. It’s changing me, and I know it’s changing Michelle because while she shared on Facebook about the “hardness” on me, what she’s going through is one million times harder on her.

One day when we can stand together and look into the past, and we have the ability to look at our lives in their full gloriousness, I wholly expect to find that the changes we’re going through right now — this Refining Fire we didn’t want — is EXACTLY what we both needed to become what our God and Christ want us to become.

Yesterday was a good day

Michelle had a bad day yesterday, but yesterday was a good day. I got to sit in bed with my best friend all day and have a TV marathon. I was able to serve Michelle and our kids. I started on a project I had been putting off for months.

And today will be a good day too no matter what it brings.

I guess I’ll end this little post with a few quotes, and then I’ll close our door for a bit and get back to work. Yours in Christ — Brian (aka Samuel)

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.

C.S. Lewis

Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.

Leo Tolstoy

[W]hen you meet someone, treat them as if they were in serious trouble, and you will be right more than half the time.

Henry B. Eyring
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