The glorious colour has faded from your hair. Your eyes lost their sparkle some time ago, but that wasn’t time’s fault, or yours either: a savage mental illness robbed you of that light, and much more besides. I use a hoist and a padded sling to help me get you changed and dressed on a morning; but I do so willingly, because you are my love, my light, and my wife.
We stood before that altar Forty-Nine years ago today; and I saw that same slightly sardonic smile as that pictured, as I looked into your eyes when we made our vows. The words, which so many appear just to mumble without meaning: that promise to look after each other “In Sickness, and in Health; until Death do us part’, echo down the years.
We have known great happiness, much laughter and a compensating amount of sadness; we have given life to three magic kids, adults all now themselves; and we can gaze at four grandsons to add to the credit balance of life.
Fortunately, I can look after you, as I have said before, and I hope that I am given a few more years yet before we say ‘Goodbye’.
Happy Anniversary, my Love!