The Man Nobody Else Knows

I'm not gonna lie. It's hard. Being his wife is hard. Not because of the reasons you may first think, though. What's hard is seeing him go through all the pain, the loss of ability and the emotions. I did not understand any of this until I lived with him. When we were dating, and even engaged, we lived in different homes. In fact, because he was in the Warrior Transition Unit at Ft. Sill when we got married, we didn't actually live together for a while after we got married. When he completed his retirement and came home, I was working so many hours that I did not see what he was experiencing. It wasn't until we moved to the town where my stepson lives, and I switched to working from home, that I really began to see it all.

More days than not, he struggles to get out of bed. He starts his days in tremendous pain. Some days the pain begins to ease, and some days it does not. When his parents call him, he does his best to hide the pain in his voice. He seldom tells them what kind of day he is really having, because he does not want to worry them. When he talks to a sibling or friend, he hides it from them. He feels that he does not want to place his burden on them. And when his son is with us, he hides it as best he can from him. He does not want his son to experience the hurt and concern of his daddy dealing with the pain. But when you live with someone and are around them almost 24/7, you can't hide it. I get to see the true him, and I am so thankful for that. It has helped me better understand how I can help him. It makes me understand him, and gives me the drive to fight for him.

The pain has been severe lately. We were hoping to do some activities with his son on the days that we got him this week, but the pain keeps us from it. That may be good because we have brushed up on math, done some creative activities, and all cuddled up for movies on the couch here at home. We love that bonding time with him, so there's always good in that. However, the plans we had were ones my husband was excited about doing with him. Luckily, though, they are things we can do another day.

There are so many more problems that factor in to our plans than just pain. For example, last week we took my stepson to ride a train about 2 hours away from our home. While on the train, Tim got to hurting so bad that he struggled to conceal it from his son. He hid it the best he could, and eventually dozed off toward the end of the ride. We got in the car to drive home, and he attempted to drive at first. Once we got on the interstate, however, he had to pull over and let me drive. Fatigue sets in so often, and it hits him when he's not expecting it. He often has to stop what he is doing almost immediately.

This morning he woke up in pain, but it eased enough after about 2 hours that he decided to join me in the yard for some yard work. We worked for an hour or two, and then he had to go back inside. He has been on the couch ever since, and much of the time has been spent in alot of pain... but he still did it!!! These are the days that mean so much... when he is able to do "normal" activities. Though he does not last as long as he once could, he amazes me at just being able to participate at all. I am so proud of the way he pushes himself when he does not feel like he can. I say it all the time, and I'll say it again... he's my hero!

My favorite part of taking care of him, especially on his extremely bad days, is knowing that... 1) I am easing his pain by easing his brain, and 2) I know a man that nobody else knows. He opens up to me like he does no other. There is nobody in his life who has ever seen what I see and experienced what I experience with him. That makes me feel special, and it makes me know that what I do to help him matters. That means so much at a time when I feel so helpless because I cannot make the pain go away.

Daily Tasks

Saturday was the perfect day for a nap. As Tim worked on his project for school, I took a little nap. That little nap turned into three hours, something I very seldom do. I knew that meant I would not be able to sleep that night. At 12:30am I began painting our kitchen. Crazy... I know. Tim went to bed at about 2am, and I told him that when he woke we would be living in a whole new house.

At 7:30am I could hear the dogs in the bedroom ready to go outside for their morning jaunt. I opened the door to let them out, woke Tim up with a kiss and encouraged him to come see the new house in which we now lived. He got up just to please me because he knew that I had been up all night. As he walked in to the kitchen, I could tell it would be a bad morning. He saw the paint on the walls, made a fuss about how good it looked in appreciation for my work, and then did his best to make it to the couch to lie back down. He got frustrated because he had wanted to get some yard work done before church, but now he didn't see how he could even make it to church.

He rested for awhile, hoping that would ease the pain. A few hours later he got up to move around, and then went right back down. All day was difficult. Then, Monday morning came along and he popped out of bed before me, got dressed, had his coffee and went out to do yard work. It is absolutely amazing the difference a day can make!

Through it all, though, I must admit that I am so thankful for his pain. Feeling his pain means that he has feeling throughout his body. He can walk. He can function. He is alive. I thank God for that!