This morning I was counting my blessings as I tried my best to stay in bed. I have so much to be thankful for. As the song says, “I’ve been blessed beyond all measure”.
Two things stuck out in my mind. My life lately seems like that Lucy in the candy factory episode. Things keep coming at me quickly and I have a hard time adequately tending to them all.
This morning I thought about the contrast of my husband’s life. I watched him go outside to smoke the other day. He walked like a very old man, holding on to counters and walls to slowly get to the door. His arms moved almost in slow-motion to get the door open. Right outside the door is a small chair. He carefully lowered his body onto that chair in a way that was similar to putting a baby in a crib: slow and steady movements. Once seated on that chair, he just stared up the narrow stairway into our back yard. I waited a minute or two, thinking that he would close the door since it was below freezing outside and the furnace had kicked on. He didn’t. I quickly walked over and shut the door.
This morning, as I was remembering this incident, I wondered what he was thinking as he sat on that chair. He cannot go up that stairway for there are no railings. He has not been in the back yard since summertime. He can barely walk from the house to the car. He has not been able to drive for over a year. Does he feel like a prisoner? Every day I ask him if he is ready to get help for his alcoholism and his answer is always negative. He is living in a jail of his own making.