After my husband's stroke he needed a lot of care, and he never stopped thanking me for what I did. It must have been very hard for him, but he was never a complainer.
It’s three AM, and he calls. She pulls herself from the Wooly warmth of dreams And pads down to his room. “Are you okay?” she asks. “Yes,” he replies sheepishly, “but I’m wet. I’m sorry.” “Oh, is that all? We can fix that.” Clean pants, clean pajamas, Clean bedpad, and back to bed. “There. That wasn’t so bad.” “I’m sorry I woke you. Thanks again for everything.” He reaches for her hand. “That’s okay. Nothing to it! Try to get back to sleep now.” And she kisses him good night For the second time. Back to bed, hoping he will sleep A little late in the morning So she can have her breakfast Before he wakes up.
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