It’s a new revelation at my end of the caring experience.
I started thinking of my often funny, sometimes difficult honey of a man as a job. I hate myself for that, but there it is. He is work.
Many of us thrust into this kind of role feel unqualified. I am ill-suited to be nursing my spouse. At this point in our journey, he does not yet need a nurse. Yet there are many demands I am required to fulfill.
I don’t want to turn this into a pity party. Before we say poor Tamara, I have to say that much as I miss my healthy Burt, I still enjoy and love the one I’m living with now.
this is our life 