by Priscilla Hunt
Sometimes when I see a photo of Greg and me, I exclaim “You look so tall!”
He chuckles at one of his ongoing amusements. . . that I seem to be the only one among my family and friends that doesn’t notice that I generally am the shortest one in photos.
One of my favorite cards from Greg is one that has a tiny kitten looking into a mirror. Looking back is the reflection of a full-grown lion, King of the Jungle. That’s me.
Imagine my surprise over the holidays to discover that I actually have some vulnerabilities. I’ve always taken for granted my good health, my physical strength (I am, after all King of the Jungle), and my ability to bounce back from any challenge.
On Christmas Day I experienced a pulmonary embolism – a blood clot in my lung – that landed me in the hospital for 3 days. When I received the diagnosis, I felt like a tiny kitten, in need of protection, nurture and care.
For the first time in our 37 years of marriage, I experienced my need for Greg at a new depth. I needed his strength and his steadiness. I needed his wisdom and encouragement. I needed his concern and care. He readily gave all those things, before I could ask.
With his tender care, I’ve bounced back and am feeling great! But now I think twice before climbing up on the kitchen counter to reach the highest shelf. Or dashing across an icy street to check the mail. Or not-quite-running a red light when the yellow light is almost past.
Somewhere between a tiny kitten and the King of the Jungle am I. I don’t want to lose my lion-esque attitude. But I am now faced with accepting the fact that I have limitations. I always have had, but I’ve been loath to acknowledge that reality.
Life is short. Life is a journey. And I’m more than thankful to be living it hand-in-hand with my sweetheart, in sickness and in health.
