Our children grew up knowing about guns and safety with some history thrown in. The boys really wanted their Dad to take them hunting and target shooting during the Thanksgiving break.
Mornings are incredibly hard on my husband. He tries to sleep through some of it. After a lot of medicine to fortify himself he climbed out of bed. Sometimes it is just so painful to watch that I leave the room. This particular morning was one of the toughest I had seen in a while.
He slowly made his way around the side of the bed, hunched over and holding the edge of the bed as he went and it was then that I had an epiphany.
Thankfully, most people will never experience the kind of neuro pathic pain that my husband endures hour after hour, day after day and month after month. That kind of pain changes everything, and I mean everything. It was during this scene that I realized once again that my husband is a hero. Not one of those fly through the air with a cap flapping in the breeze kind of heroes.
Every day he chooses, in spite of unbelievable pain, to get out of bed and endure one more day without the promise of healing. And one more day he tries with all that is within him to make another memory with the boys that will hopefully last beyond his days. To me that is true courage and for that I am grateful for the hero beside me.
Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the ground each morning Satan says, "Oh crud, she's up".