Two Broads and Baluba

Love After Fifty, Part Two

For those of you who read the blog, I have some good news.  My sweetie has recovered from his mini strokes with no after affects except a lingering tiredness.   

After they released him, he was a completely different person for a while, (mentally more so than physically,) and it was worrisome for me, particularly because our relationship is still relatively new...  Although we've known each other going on eight years.  I was worried that his essential being, his spark that attracted me so much... had vanished.  We were watching Jeopardy the night after he was released, and he couldn't get the answers out fast enough, although he knew most of them.

My daughter reminded me:  "Give him a break, mom, he's had a stroke."  I knew that's what I had to do, and I did it, because my love for him was something that overshadowed any problems he was having.

So I did that, overlooked his little "differences," endured his rapid mood swings, and treated him just as if nothing had happened.  

I'm not a particularly religious person, but I think his recovery is ninety percent complete.  It's almost a miracle how much he IS his old self. And I'd like to think I had something to do with this "recovery."

The water isn't totally under the bridge yet, and I realize this, with a medium level of anxiety.  Who knows if or when he'll have another incident?  Who knows if something else might not take down this intrepid, mountainous individual that I consider mine?  Who cares.  Life threw us together, and I'm going to enjoy him... and us... as long as I can.

On a lighter note, and the purpose of this blog entry.  Last night, I observed something in his refrigerator that had been there for over a week.   

Me:  "That's been in there so long, it's probably old and wrinkled!"

Him:  "Well so are you, dear. but I still love you!"

:)