Sad and Sweet

My mom is the choir director at our church and every year of course there is a choir party. I've gone several years mostly because the food is always delicious. Last night was this year's choir party, and I again went just for the good food.

There are two couples in the choir where the husband is 20 years older than his wife (they're both second marriages). Last night I happened to get in the food line right next to one of these couples, and what I experienced put me on the verge of tears. I literally had to bite my lip to keep from crying.

The wife, Patsy, was helping her husband, Keith, fix his plate of food. He was basically just holding his plate as best he could, and she was asking him what he wanted and putting it on his plate. I guess she saw me looking a little curious and she told me that with his medication there were certain things he couldn't eat. She told Keith that he couldn't have the broccoli or the sweet potatoes, but he could have a roll. She was speaking to him almost as if he were a child, but not in a condescending way. She was just being so patient with him, reminding him to keep his plate level when his hands would start to tilt. "Don't these rolls look good? You'll like one of them. You probably shouldn't have any butter, though." Keith, taking the roll, said "I can't have any butter?" At that point I'm assuming Patsy just couldn't bear to say no one more time, as she told him that yes, he could have a little butter.

This was so sweet and so sad at the same time. I'm not sure if it's just because Wayne's 10 years older than me, which everyone seems to think is such a big deal, but this just really touched me. I thought about how must Patsy must love her husband to be able to take care of him like that. She has to treat him like a child without treating him like a child. She has such grace and strength. It made me think about how one day I may have to take care of Wayne (sorry Wayne!). I pray every night that my Heavenly Father will allow Wayne and I to grow old together. I want to be 85 and have 95-year-old Wayne sitting next to me in a rocking chair, watching the sun set.

It's a scary thing, loving someone so much. I've been thinking a lot about this lately. It's hard to give someone your heart because you can never be sure exactly what the future will hold.

Still, I do know this: if one day I have to tell Wayne to hold his plate level, and that he can only have a little butter, I'll praise God that Wayne's standing next to me.