Not Ready to Check Out Yet

When I said, “until death do us part” to my betrothed in those brief starry-eyed moments of matrimonial binding bliss in a small town in Ohio named Loveland (can you believe we actually got married in a place with that moniker?  It took my love muffin and me two years to realize the proper intonation of the name and the error of our ways to be wedded in such a sappy locale.)  I said the words without really thinking about the meaning.  Besides, when you are young, frivolous and fancy-free the thought of your partner ever actually dying is pretty much not in your immediate thought process.

The other thing you never question when you are young is your own mortality.  I am not sure when the crossover point happens, but the aging process sobers you to the fact that one should live for the moment because you never know when things may take a down turn.  Life gives you little tests along the way; a cold, a bad bout of the flu, a broken appendage, an appendix flaring up or a nasty gall bladder attack, just to see how one will cope in the face of adversity.  Some of us can handle what is thrown at us and some of us can’t, don’t or won’t.

Over the years, I have found that my snuggle-bug makes a horrible patient (must be a guy thing), even with the most basic of ailments.  He tends to be impatient with the healing process, he doesn’t listen to instructions well and fundamentally he is a whiner.  That said, all of his lovely negative traits that I have successfully learned to banish out of my conscious being over the years were suddenly music to my ears when we had the big scare last week (and you wondered where my column was).

After a standard colonoscopy (fondly referred to as “goosin’ the watoos”) when a routine EKG found an irregularity in his heart beat (no comments on where his heart may be located) and subsequent testing to confirm what may be going on, my honey bunny was admitted for an angiogram.  Scary word – anything dealing with a heart has special meaning after my dad passed away with heart problems at the age of 55 – naturally I freaked.  The results from the tests were the best we could ask for, no arterial blockage – albeit damage to the heart from an unknown virus, which will not affect him living a long and vigorous life and continuing to annoy me (bring it on, I say!) to his hearts content.

But for the split second of time we didn’t know what was going to happen, 17 years of happiness and joy (the not so good stuff had mysteriously evaporated) with this hunk of burning love flashed in front of me.  The vows from long ago rang in my ears and I rejected them outright – it wasn’t going to be our time.  I was going to chalk this whole experience up to just another blip on the radar of life, an experiment of sorts to see if we would be up to the challenge.

Actually, I think we may be up to another 30 or so years of challenges.  Although I feel like I aged and sprouted a few more grey hairs through this, maybe I learned something too.  I haven’t heard him whine once.  After I take out these earplugs I am going to have to let him know I think the time is now to start enjoying life to the fullest and put off that “do us part” stuff for a long, long time.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-