Roots

{Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches, we found that we were one tree and not two.}
-Louis De Bernieres



A while ago, I read this passage on another blog, and it made me hold my breath for a minute. It struck me....and it has stayed with me.
Last week I heard of yet another couple who have a child with medical issues divorcing. My heart sank. Marriage, at some point (for some, at many points) is freaking hard! Life throws things at every couple, and we all know how difficult it can be to hold on and figure out life together - forever- with a partner.
Having a child with medical issues just takes the everyday stuff and elevates it. Some of you know of a time when Walter and I were separated and I have no problem sharing how hard Liz's illness has been on us (among another huge thing). The stress and pressure of trying to manage the care of her while caring for the other two, and the house, and Walter's work is a lot. Finances are obviously an issue as medical bills pile up, can fuel arguments and lead to a stress all of their own. Isolation is also something that weighs on a marriage at times like this. Many times, we are two ships passing in the night. I stay with Liz at the hospital when she is in and I can go days without seeing Walter. Even when we are not inpatient, time together is difficult to make happen either because I use his days off as days for appointments, or we take that time to be with the kids, or we are simply too exhausted. The emotions and grief that naturally come lend a hand in making marriage hard during this. The grief of knowing life isn't as planned, and if I am honest, even being envious of other couples/families and their good "luck" play a role in our feelings. People process their feelings differently and it is easy to lash out to those you love most.

There is no other way to put it really other than to say the same word over and over again- it is hard. Walter and I were thrown into "hard" from the start of our marriage, it feels. Exactly one year into it, we were 22 year olds with twins who both faced surgeries and constant support. Rough stuff.
Our separation was for a totally different issue than a link to Elizabeth's illness -though it didn't help, that's for sure.
Actually, Elizabeth's declining health over the last two years brought Walter and I back together. I don't know that we would be together now if it wasn't for Elizabeth getting worse.
And still.... it is hard. So much work and so very hard.

When I hear about a couple with a child who faces chronic illness or disability ending their marriage, it hits close to home and causes my stomach to drop. I used to think it was either sink or swim. Now I feel that sometimes it is more like sink, swim, or hold on for dear life.... and hope that with trust, friendship, examples and influence of other marriages that go through health issues of a child(Sarah H., Holly), and a lot of work, we grow towards each other and not apart.

So, to my husband, who I know stalks my blog {:)}- I hear you. I see you. Life has at times (like, a LOT of times!) been mean and ugly and exhausting for us. I know how we both feel like there are no blossoms or shade left for barren, storm-weathered trees like ours at times. And still, some hold on, because when it is all said and done, their roots have grown to become one.