Sometimes. . .

Some days I look at my husband suffering in silence and think my heart just sinks. He's pretty good at hiding it, but there are some tell tale signs of the war his body is waging on him. Sometimes those rosy cheeks of his turn a certain shade of crimson, or his smile just isn't as close to the surface. Sometimes his voice just has a certain tone in it, or his laughter doesn't come. Sometimes I can tell it's hard for him to breathe, or the hot water bottle finds a permanent spot on the couch. But this is only sometimes, and it makes me grateful. And humble. Chronic pain - who knew?

Pain stayed so long I said to him today,
"I will not have you with me any more."
I stamped my foot and said, "Be on your way,"
And paused there, startled at the look he wore.
"I, who have been your friend," he said to me,
"I, who have been your teacher-all you know
Of understanding love, of sympathy,
And patience, I have taught you. Shall I go?"
He spoke the truth, this strange unwelcome guest;
I watched him leave, and knew that he was wise.
He left a heart grown tender in my breast.
He left a far, clear vision in my eyes.
I dried my tears, and lifted up a song-
Even for one who'd tortured me so long.
-Anonymous