Coming Home

Hubby was released from the hospital on Friday, home by noon, and asleep within an hour.  His body has demanded a lot of sleep since, for which I’m so very grateful.  He’s not an easy one to keep down, let me tell ya!

I chuckle at his selective independence.  At the same time that he was teasing me about being a babysitter that he didn’t need, he would point at an obstacle for me to move/remove/undo, expecting me to respond expediently to the sign language.

Twenty-two years will do that to a couple.  Give you simple expectations of your mate and the freedom to say what you think, whether it’s right or not.

Today, Hubby is transitioning.  He is exerting his right to be independent:  making the coffee, putting on real jeans rather than sweatpants, talking big about what he’s going to do against doctor orders, and grilling me about my lawn mowing methodology.

Some things are just going to have to be as they are.  I set the mower two inches higher when I mowed this morning; and I didn’t detail the lawn afterwards – but I didn’t do it the way he would have…

The grass is mowed, so mission accomplished!

If only Hubby were so simple to handle post surgery!


Dreamin’ Girl


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