This is going to be a tough post to write. Not because it's bad or depressing, but because it's intensely personal.
It is also explicit, so please be warned. This is about marriage.
Severe and terminal illness does a lot of things that are unpleasant. Pain, nausea, incontinence, restricted mobility, fatigue...you can make a long list.
It also does some things that are really weird...and that can open doors to healing.
The other night, I was not doing well, to put it mildly. And one of the manifestations of that was an erection that would not go away.
There are no winks and nudges here. It was uncomfortable, and was beginning to border on painful.
Barbara had already gone to bed, the next day being a work-day, and I thought about dealing with the situation myself, but I didn't have the energy.
So I went to her, and asked for help, which she willingly gave.
It cost her some sleep, and it frankly cost me a bit of pride to have to interrupt her preparation for bed, but the point is that she put aside her own needs and gave me...yes, a hand..well, two...because I was too weak to do it myself, and strong enough to ask.
Our sexual relationship had been pretty much nonexistent for quite awhile, partially because of illness, and partially because I had been a fool. I had allowed myself to fall into a pattern of feeling rejected and victimized because I was not willing to reach the level of emotionally vulnerability that was all she really wanted.
I was not willing to ask. I had bought into a culture of youth and strength and harshness that precluded the tenderness of martial intimacy, and it took a bludgeoning of pain and other things to drive me to my knees.
And to say to my wife the words she needed to hear.
I need this from you. I need this kind of closeness, and I am so sorry that I was never able to say this before.
Please forgive me, and please help me.
It shouldn't take dying to know how to live. It shouldn't take dying to learn how to love.
But for me, it has. I'm justglad I learned.
And yes, this is the beginning of an opening door back into a fully-alive marriage. Granted, I can't do much.
But I can make Barbara happy by letting her know, and demonstrating, that I need her and want her not only for her mind and labor and faith, but for her whole person.
What do you think? Too much information? Or will this help someone...and maybe not only the dying...to see that life is really too short to live in the Land of Pride?
If you can.please do leave a comment. I am trying to answer all, and I am failing, but please know this - I read and treasure each one.
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links (they're 99 cents each). And if you'd like a free PDF, please email me at tempusfugit02 (at) gmail (dot) com, and I'll gladly send them
Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links (they're 99 cents each). And if you'd like a free PDF, please email me at tempusfugit02 (at) gmail (dot) com, and I'll gladly send them
Intimacy during illness--either physical, emotional or spiritual--is difficult (shucks, it's hard during health, too). Your transparency and willingness to share the intimate details of your marriage will help others realize that perhaps they, too, have cut themselves off from the intimacy they crave because of pride.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Anita. In many ways this was the most difficult post I have written, because I had to look at how much pride had gotten in the way of love. No wonder it's the chief sin; because the pride that can cut us off from our mate can also cut us off from God.
DeleteThank you so much for being here!
Thank you for being brave enough, Andrew, to be this frank about the many challenges a terminally ill spouse and the caregiving spouse have to deal with. I'm grateful that Barbara has been your ally in this battle and given to you in ways that remind you of her love. We need to know that these challenges will come when we walk through those valleys and I'm grateful that you've given voice to those kinds of struggles in life and marriage, my friend.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Beth. I have learned that, even in the midst of some really bad times, it can be surprisingly hard - because of pride - to accept even a loving ally. The desire to 'go it alone' is so very wrongheaded. And it's something that hides behind the guise of 'dignity'.
DeleteThank you so much for being here!
Well done my friend, well done.
ReplyDeleteI know many caretakers who silently crave some form of sexual intimacy with their spouse, but don't feel they have a right to ask for it. I realise there's more to it in your situation, but resorting a lost part of marriage is still a wonderful thing for both you and Barb.
Thank you, Paul - your comment means a lot to me. Barbara said that she'd gotten used to being physically ignored, writing it off to pain and to the mental adjustments I've had to make to fight a very hard battle...but those adjustments did not need to exclude her, and pain's going to happen anyway.
DeleteIt's so good to learn before it's too late.
Andrew, you probably don't remember but I've left you comments here before, having been my husband's caregiver for 15 years until his death in 2010. What you've said here helps me ... it helps me to understand some of why Rich withdrew from intimacy with me before it was strictly physically necessary. It helps to heal the bruised space that has been in my heart. And if it helps me, you can bet it will help someone else who has either gone through it in the past or is dealing with it now -- whether caregiver or spouse.
ReplyDeleteYour courage is astonishing and humbling and I have grown to love who you are through your writings.
Oh, Shelby, of course I remember you, and the wise and moving comments you have made! I am so grateful that you are here today.
DeleteI'm so happy that this has given you some measure of peace and healing. It was a tough post to write...but what you've shared makes it more than worthwhile.
This: "It shouldn't take dying to know how to live. It shouldn't take dying to learn how to love."
ReplyDeleteIt helps, Andrew, never doubt your words help. Writing is your work, the rest is up to Him. And grace. Always grace. Continued prayers for you and Barbara.
June, thank you. In the end, it's all about accepting grace, whether from my wife, or from God. So hard to do when pride gets in the way, but so vital to live life, however many days are left, with a heart of love.
DeleteI truly appreciate your presence here, and we value and treasure your prayers.
the land of pride's a lonely place, isn't it ...
ReplyDeleteyou're brave.
Yes, Linda. prie i the loneliest place on earth, or in Hell, and being there is a voluntary act.
DeleteBut so, by the grace of God, is leaving it behind.
Thank you so much for being here.
Because of the situation; because you are sharing things from the perspective of one who is being "cared for"; because of your illness; because of your open-ness...because you are YOU...Andrew! I don't feel this is TMI at all! I feel it is you, being who you are; doing what you are called to do...and that is sharing from the situation you are in! No, Andrew, it is honest, open sharing, in the hopes that your words will help someone else in your situation...or not in your situation!
ReplyDeleteI LOVE this phrase; and it really makes one stop and think, whether they are dying or not!! "It shouldn't take dying to know how to live. It shouldn't take dying to learn how to love."
So "spot on", Andrew! Thank you for sharing!!
Barbara, thank you, most especially for affirming that this was not TMI!
DeleteI was SO reluctant to write this, but had the feeling that, even in an otherwise healthy relationship, pride is such a big obstacle. It's maybe worse in my case, because of the perception that 'pride is one of the few things I have left'.
But that's so wrong. Pride is, in the end, a cell into which one locks oneself, and feels isolated...ignoring the fact that one still holds the key to get out.
Thank you so much for being here today!
We need you to share your story, even the most intimate parts, to teach us about dying...and living. Because it unfortunately we humans do not learn how to live and love until confronted with someone dying.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely true, Michele. It's only through dying that we're born to eternal life, yes, but the road to death can offer freedom from so much posturing with which we may imprison ourselves.
DeleteI truly appreciate your being here. You're in my prayers.
Andrew, I think you are simply sharing your story and that could help others who are struggling in the same vain. We were created to be in relationship and when we cannot fully live into a relationship, that is incredibly hard to admit. So much THIS: "It shouldn't take dying to know how to live. It shouldn't take dying to learn how to love" YES! YES! YES!! Let's "embrace" (my one word this year) every moment day etc even when it is hard to do. In the words of author Mandy Hales, let's embrace the "beautiful uncertainty" of it all!
ReplyDeleteTara, "embrace' is such a wonderful word...and embracing the uncertainty is a terrific concept, because everything is really uncertain; we just put our pretension of surety on life, and ignore the monsters that stalk in the darkness, closer at hand than we want to believe.
DeleteGiving up pride is something of a surrender to that uncertainty...but it's also a surrender to the Ultimate Certainty, the unfailing Love that God has for us.
So wonderful that you're here, tara!