For Home, Where Our Affection Clings

now that my wife has had her knee replacement surgery, i have the responsibility of caring for her at home.  she can walk short distances with the assistance of a walker, but she requires help getting back into the bed.  she has to keep ice packs on her knee to control swelling, and these need to be changed fairly frequently.  the packs that came home with us from the hospital, leak as the ice melts.  this forces my wife to awaken me several times during the night to change out the packs and work on them to stop further leakage.  i have to make certain that she takes her medications and that there is food prepared for both of us.  right now, i am exhausted and wondering if i can continue providing the care she needs.

as i reflected on my fatigue and felt sorry for both her and myself, i remembered my frequent bouts of earache as a child.  i would awaken in the night to excruciating pain in my ears, crying out for help from my mother.  she was always attentive and did what she could to ease my pain.  it never occurred to me then that my mother was worn out after one of my all-night battles with pain.  yet, she never complained, even though she had to carry on the next day as if she had a good night's sleep.  

i thought, too, of my mother-in-law, who fell from a ladder and broke her hip in her mid-40s.  my wife has told me that her mother somehow continued with her work of preparing meals for her family, hobbling around in the kitchen with the aid of a walker.  there was no physical therapy, nor anyone waiting on her as she recuperated.  her children and husband never heard a word of complaint or resentment.  she did what she thought had to be done, as she suffered in silence.

i understand how these selfless women must have felt, as they cared for their families.  i'm sure they asked themselves why life had to be as it was, but they never indulged in self-pity or bitterness.  they carried on as best they could, knowing that their families were taken care of, even when their children and husband never expressed any gratitude for what they endured.  when i begin to feel sorry for myself as i meet my wife's needs as best i can, i think of my mother and my mother-in-law and pray that i can show the kind of compassion and love they showed their families.

may we rejoice in what we are given, even when it is not what we would have chosen.  may we do what we can to ease the pain that others feel, trying to make their lives better in any way we can.  may we remember that compassion doesn't exist in the place of resentment, but enables us to care for others even when we resent our lot.  may our love for others be as strong as love for ourselves.  shalom.