Marriage as C25K

I am reading Kate Braestrup's second memoir, Marriage and Other Acts of Charity. 

Her tale reminds me of my favorite admonition about marriage: a successful one is where both man and wife each think they got the better end of the deal. Today is our anniversary. And let me tell you. I won. 

What he got: neuroses, debt, abhorrence of household maintenance, neuroses, vegetables, political rants, oh, and did I mention my neuroses?

What I got: Love. 

A few months ago, in the midst of the time that shall not be mentioned (still processing) I found this was my horoscope:

 

I was crying a lot in those days but this made me grin from the inside out. Because that girl? The one with the mix tapes full of Bryan Adams, Journey, Cheap Trick and every other longing ballad? I want to tell her that those nights of wishing and hoping and thinking and praying - they worked! She won the marriage lottery!

 I just read this amazing obituary; Pink's story is the story Jesus wants to hear from every obituary he reads over his morning coffee. Love. A lot. Openly and with abandon. 

I am not guilty of this behavior.  I fail to love on many - well, most - occasions. My husband, on the other hand, is a gift. My first reaction to anything - a bird at the window, a letter in the mail, a new recipe - is analytic. 

My brain goes to all the factors, the whys, the implications, the context and relation to all things known before. It asserts dominance every time. Let's just say I don't radiate love and grace the way Pink did.

Jack, on the other hand, is the Ghost of Christmas Present. Come, and know me better, man! He lives fully and radiates love. He is grace when I have a tantrum, solace when I am afraid, hope when I doubt. His arms are always open. 

Why do we celebrate anniversaries? Some do to honor what the couple has made of their life together. Home, children, community. Some mark the survival of tumultuous years. Some renew their vows. 

 Today marks six years for us since we first said our vows.

We kept the whole better or worse stuff, the richer or poorer, the sickness and in health bit (see previous post).  We agreed faithful was probably good to stick in. Honesty, respect, trust, etc. Then we took a little creative license and declared: 

"I promise to honor you; to share all that I am with you and to love you all the days of my life."

"I join with you on your journey; that we may learn to better understand ourselves, the world and God." 

Yes, I love him every day. And every day he shows me how to be a little better at it. 

In her conclusion, the lady who performed the ceremony admonished us. "Cory and Jack, treat each other with respect and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your marriage deserves. If each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, your marriage will be marked by abundance and delight." 

She was right. So today we celebrate this 5k victory while training for a marathon. Love is choice every minute of every day. Someday I hope I will finally learn it well enough so love will become my default the way Jack learned it to be from his parents and Pink - and Jesus - taught us it should be.

Springing into summer

Which is longer, a saga or an epic? Please hold while I transfer you to Google. (Response: A saga is an Icelandic epic.) Either way, it's been a long haul.

 I won't bore you with the episodic details since the characters are all the same. The bottom line is that Jack's outfit has had an open back for most of the past four months. In those rare weeks when it didn't, it had suspenders. Needless to say, the heart surgery had some complications. Which led to other complications.

 

 It has been a trying time. We will certainly be different people at the end of this. 

Have a heart, or a cow

Many years ago we were watching a program about medical advances. They were discussing prosthetic limbs and other artificial body parts that were creating bionic people. Jack was having none of it.
"If I need one, give me one of those pig valves. Or even better, a cow valve!"

We laughed. Who had ever heard of a cow valve?

Fast forward to last fall.
Me: "You really need to see the cardiologist. They found concerns a couple of years ago and there hasn't been any follow-up."
Him: "I didn't like the last guy we saw."
Me: "There are others. Give them a call."

Eventually, the call was made. Tests were ordered. An appointment scheduled. We never made it to that appointment. After the second test the doctor who happened to be there came in. I was at work so he recorded it for me.

(In a Romanian accent:)
"You need an aortic valve replacement plus one, maybe two bypasses. We need to get you in for a heart catheterization immediately."

The past few weeks have been a bit of a blur. That was week one. Week two was the catheterization, which was not pleasant. Watching the video of the vessel function was pretty amazing, however. I'm a big believer in alternative medicine but am properly awed - and grateful - for modern medicine as well. The surgeon on call that day said the surgery was necessary but that the symptoms weren't significant (fatigue and shortness of breath). Because of that he thought it could wait until he was back from covering other cities (Wyoming has two heart surgeons. TWO.) and a vacation. "My office will call and set you up for about a month from now."

Today is Sunday. On Monday last week the office called and said the other surgeon could do it sooner and could we come see him tomorrow? His office is two hours away. We went. He scheduled the surgery for Friday.

"Now, you have a choice. An artificial valve will last the longest. They never wear out, but you have to be on blood thinner for the rest of your life. You can have a tissue valve, which doesn't last quite as long but longer than we used to think. We used to think they would only last 10 years. Now studies are showing they last up to 25 years."

"What kind of tissue?"

"We prefer to use bovine pericardium."

We looked at each other. A cow valve??

Friday morning they installed an extra-large aortic COW valve in Jack's heart. He has been missing the cows since we moved. Now he literally carries one around with him. Or maybe more bull. 

In My Room

I don't have any before photos for this post, but I'm guessing you can imagine. Perhaps you even have a similar space in your house somewhere. You know, that room/corner/basement that is stuffed full of boxes, strewn with unwanted decorations, unheated and saturated with dust?

That one.

A couple of strands of lights never made it back into the Christmas box. A rare trip to the city yielded *the perfect* fabric. And I remembered. A room can make you happy just by being in it. 

Bright colors. Whimsy. Treasures only I care about. I piled them in and sat back to soak it in. Well, after I cleaned (how fun was it to clean those blinds? Not very. But so worth it.) 

The day before the city trip I began Amish Grace and a phrase they use resonated with me: 

JOY: Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. 

Irony in putting that up in a room all for me? Why yes, there is. I'll go meditate upon that. In my room. 

Home makeover: Office edition

Before: 

After:

Here is the curtain fabric. It makes the green shag carpet seem purposeful instead of inherited.