A couple of weekends ago, we had a big birthday celebration for all the winter birthdays in my family. As a result of this celebration, we (at least those of us over the age of five) played a game called “Dirty Laundry”.
Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s not that kind of game.
The object was to see how well people knew you. A question might be “What are my three favorite books?” and the other players had to match your answers for points. The drawing portion was fun. We had to draw Monica on vacation, for example.
When it came to my turn to be matched, everyone had to draw my biggest fear. Daddy and Mama said “heights”, Clay said  “the dark” and Monica said “bugs”.
They were all right. And, they were all wrong.
My biggest fears -are- heights, the dark and bugs (well creepy crawlies).
Until Kenny gets sick. That’s when my heart starts to go into overdrive and my palms start to sweat.
I read an article once claiming that until Celine Dion’s husband experienced his cancer, he took complete care of her. I can emulate that remark. Heck, I do emulate that remark.
Kenny is the strong one in our marriage. He’s smarter than I am, more experienced than I am and usually less willing than I am to let an entire day go by spent in bed with only cats and magazines for company.
This past week, however, the flu hit our little town. It hit hard. It shut down both the county and the city schools and it felled my husband. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t stay awake more than five minutes at a time and he couldn’t stop sweating and shivering.
I tried to be a good little nurse. I fetched him Gatorade. I gave him a wet washcloth. I didn’t engage him in deep conversation. I understood when he canceled his classes.
Inside, however, I was Linus with a thumb in my mouth and a security blanket clutched in my hands.
Kenny’s better now. He’s back to classes. He’s back to expounding on the mechanics of physics (his favorite topic in the world). He’s back to picking up the cats just to hear them protest. He’s back to grinning at me.
I’m glad. Don’t get me wrong. I know that chances are someday I’ll have to be strong. And confident. And capable. And I know that in the midst of situations like this past week, I -can- be.
I’m just not quite ready to let Kenny give up those roles.
Not yet.
Not for a long time.
Â