Permanence

I was blessed to have in my life my mother's older sister and her husband. My aunt and uncle were an incredible couple. Their love and devotion for each other shone through whatever they were doing. They were a couple who gave freely of themselves to each other, their children, family, friends, and people they never knew. My uncle was the first person I ever heard of working for Habitat for Humanity. My aunt manned the resale store when their local H of H opened one. They were the people that hauled me to the doctor when I was pregnant with twins and my husband was in Desert Storm.

I learned such valuable lessons watching them throughout my life. Most they taught me just by living their lives honestly and openly. They were huge practitioners of not sweating the small stuff - long before that phrase ever became part of our vernacular. She was kooky and demonstrative. He was quiet and contemplative with just a hint of a mischievous side. To me, they were the perfect couple.

They stayed that way even when ALS robbed of him his muscular function one small body part at a time. She was his hands when he needed her to be. Then she was his legs. Eventually, she was his everything. But, I guess she had honestly been that all of their lives.

ALS is a terrible thief. It steals all function except the mind. His sharp mind and quiet wit were still in there. He just couldn't show us. But my aunt knew. She knew who he was and what he was. She never forgot.

Even though the illness lingered far longer than imagined, she never left his side. She would take him, the home health nurse, his ventilator, and anything else he needed and put them all on their boat. And they would spend a day on the lake - just like they always had.

When you are young and hear those "for better or worse" words, there are some worse scenarios that we just can't imagine. She lived one. But her vows stayed true. She stayed true. She was as kooky and giddily in love with him the day he died as she was when he was young and strong.

We live in a disposable world. Popular magazines implore us to use disposable dishes around the holidays to ease our stress even though we know what that does to the environment, not to mention our personal finances. Just try to get a small appliance or some electronics repaired. Even the repairman that makes his living doing that will tell you it is cheaper and easier to discard it and buy a new one. And if you want to see how disposable our personal relationships are, just turn on the television or pick up People magazine.

Permanence isn't easy to achieve. I still think it is a worthy goal.