It’s Thanksgiving Day, and I’m writing this at 6:30 AM. I often get up around 6:00 AM to give me an hour or so of solitary time before Sharon awakens at around 7:30 AM and the hectic morning starts.
I said something to Sharon the other day about how much I miss “alone time” — time in which I can just sit in the silence and think or write. She said, “Don’t worry. You’ll have all the alone time you want soon enough.” Unfortunately she’s right. Every minute I have with her right now is a treasure — even the moments when it seems like such a struggle to cope with her needs.
On this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that Sharon is still alive, and that she’s able to communicate with me so easily. The word “easily” probably seems absurd to some people. After all, Sharon communicates by having to type every word on a keyboard. When she plays her words back to me she uses facial expressions to add emphasis and emotional impact, so I’ll understand the nuances of her computerized voice. It’s very mechanical, yet the communication is effective.
And I guess in some sense the communication between us is more effective than the communication between a lot of “normal” people. Sharon seldom blurts out things she regrets. She always has a few seconds to self-censor the really hateful things that people sometimes say to a loved one in the heat of the moment. We get along pretty well.
So on this Thanksgiving, before we spend hours getting ready to see family, before the chaos of a huge Thanksgiving dinner that Sharon will struggle to eat, I’ll express my thanks for my wonderful wife. I love this woman, and ALS can’t do anything to change that.
