… then one morning I woke and knew that the skirmishes were over. I was joined in a battle to death. The lawn became unimportant. The dust bunnies in the kitchen weren’t going away. The carpet wasn’t going to get cleaned. The shed is not going to be emptied. The tools aren’t going to get sorted.
The day is fast approaching when I will not be able to protect my wife, and I will leave her to the care of others just at the time she needed me most. It is a bitter pill to swallow.
Yet I have each day, and each day adds to each day. I must concentrate on those things that are good and necessary before the darkness arrives.
But all that is left is the struggle.