Some words about communication

Keith is going to see his mom today with our daughter Aimee. I hope he has a glib tongue to explain why he shaved his head, or that Bea is still a little fuzzy with drugs, because he doesn't want to tell her yet about what is going on with him. She is very fragile and finally starting to make some progress in her own fight to survive. She doesn't need the stress of worry added to her already difficult days in the hospital.

While he is gone Kim and I are going to tackle some of the practical aspects of living. All those boxes of stuff from the medical supply house have to go somewhere. The house needs to be cleaned and disinfected top to bottom. I want everything as clean and comfortable as possible for when Keith is not feeling as well as he is right now.

I am so proud of my husband. Not because he doesn't express fear -- because that isn't true and would be stupid, to say the least. Fear is normal and needs to be expressed. And not because he never gets grumpy or anxious. That would mean he isn't behaving normally.

I am proud because he does express his fear, gets irritable at times, feels anxious about the future. I am proud of him because he expresses these things in his writing, his conversations, and in his moments alone with me. There is no phony "macho" thing with Keith. I don't have to guess how he feels about something. I am able to be myself around him as well, because he remains true to himself. He is not pretending to be fearless or stoic. He allows us to share his fears and anxieties, along with his sense of humor, his warmth and his enthusiasm for life.

It's so nice to be married to a "real man." One who knows that communication is the key to a good relationship. It is through that communication that we have weathered some very hard times in the past. This is now (I hope) the hardest time of all for us. It is through sharing and talking that we will get through this together. For 27 years we have stood by each other. It is almost a miracle in our generation to accomplish this and a great deal of the credit goes to Keith for his ability to stick through a difficult situation and say the things that need to be said.

I am grateful that he never shuts me out and that he allows me to try to help as best I can. It may seem strange to say about a man I've lived with for so long, but I am honored by the trust he places in me every day. It's a rare gift. One I treasure.