"We" have cancer.
The disease might be in my body, but "we" have cancer.
I don't know how I would manage without Moshe.
He is my "anchor."
He comes to every doctor's meeting with me. He provides emotional support and is my mental recorder. (Thank God one of us has a working memory)
He drives me to every chemo treatment, and stays with me until I am all set up. He would stay the whole time, every time, without question.
He wakes up with me in the middle of the night, when I feel sick.
He holds me when I start crying for no reason.
He wakes up every morning and gets the kids to school on time.
He picks up all the pieces that I leave in my wake.
He doesn't complain.
He'll drop everything if I need him.
When I had my major surgery (8 hours in the operating room) two years ago, and lay in bed unable to move, Moshe lovingly held a straw to my lips so that I could drink. Then, with utmost care, he gently wiped off my chin, so that I wouldn't be irritated by the smallest drip.
That memory, of tender care, will stay with me forever.
Only recently did I learn of another act of his loving kindness during that hospital stay. I was in terrible pain, and I watched TV almost 24/7 to distract me from my discomfort. I would turn on the TV in the middle of the night and watch for hours, drifting in and out of a restless sleep. Only recently did Moshe mention, in passing, the hours of sleep he lost during that time. I hadn't even realized that I was disturbing his sleep. He never indicated anything, lest I not do what was best for me.
That selfless giving is typical.
He never asks for thanks.
He never expects anything in return.
He is quiet, generous, and giving.
He is my partner.
He is there.
"We" have cancer.
I am not alone.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
Beer, Glorious Beer
54 minutes ago