exposing the dark side of adoption
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The Bride

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Perhaps one of my favorite love-stories comes from a couple I met in the hospital many MANY lifetimes ago, when I was working on the Oncology floor during the summer of 1990.  The woman had uterine cancer, and was dying a slow, painful death.  Her husband, a really cute, sweet adorable little old man was by her side each & every day, and he took meticulous care of "his bride" each and every day, without fail.  She had moments of lucidity, but more often than not, she was in a drug-induced coma-state.  That didn't distract or deter him from being by her side every moment he could while she was hospitalized. 
After a few times I had made rounds to his wife's room and seen him, I asked him how he was doing.  I told him how much I was impressed and in awe of the loving, doting care he was always giving his wife, and how uncommon it was to see such care and concern be given by a family member.  He seemed to have a strength and love that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before.  We spoke about how unfortunate that was.
He seemed to really appreciate my observations, and took a seat, next to his wife.  He started to stroke her hair, and face, and started to tell me Their Love Story.  I don't recall much of what he said, as much as I recall the tears, the love, the pure passion that still lived in an 80+yr old man.  I do remember him saying, as much as they both wanted children, they could not have them because she "always had problems".  Despite the sadness that brought them, they also took it as a sign to turn to each other, and love one another even MORE, because all they HAD was each other.  He claimed, not once was he ever disappointed in her.  Instead, they found a way to work together towards a common-good, and they found themselves doing work for the USO.  I remember him saying, "She loved those boys like they were our own".
Now, me, being me, and being the only way I know how to be, (I was 21 at the time), I was deeply disturbed how this man spoke and thought and expressed this overwhelming physical attraction and passion towards this "beautiful bride".  She was a woman who was old, white as the sheets, wrinkled, and smelled like Death itself.  But I remember having chills and a wave of Hope and Happiness, thinking, "YES! there IS love like this!  It is possible!  It CAN be attained, and when it's Right, and when it's True...my God in Heaven, there is NOTHING that isn't possible!"
I left the room with him still stroking her wrinkled flaccid face, whispering, (I'm sure), sweet nothings, and kissing her forehead.  I shut the door behind me, and stood against the wall, and I wept.
Later, that evening, he had his coat & hat on, and was leaving for the night.  He stopped by the Nurse's Station to speak to me for a minute.  The other nurses were quite surprised, because apparently, the man didn't speak to ANYONE during his long visits.  He was like a Watchful Guard, making sure all was being done to keep his wife as well-cared for as possible.  What the nurse's lacked in "care", he would provide himself.  (He was a stickler!!).  The nursing staff, therefore didn't like him -- they thought he was "difficult".  You know... "family members"... they can be the worst species sometimes...
So, as he stood at the desk, waiting for me to come out of the med-room, he took his hat off, held it in front of him, with slightly shaking, wrinkled, arthritic hands, and quietly said, "thank you for asking me about ______(whatever her 1st name was).  You are the first person who saw her as a person, and me as her husband.  You took the time to ask about us as a couple, and you listened to what I believe is the Greatest Love Story that could ever be told.  You asked how I keep my strength & willingness to come here each day?  She is Me, and I am Her.  We live for and through each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I'm grateful she has you to watch over her tonight. She knows I trust you and I can rest well knowing that.  Thank you."  He walked away, putting his hat back on, and shuffled to the elevator doors.  I watched him with such sadness -- and envy.
That night, after midnight, his Bride took her last breath. I was there.  Just like he wanted me to be.  Strange, how timing is...  I waited a while, (a moment or two for respect (??), then did the Tag, Bag and Drag...but THIS time, it was different.  I felt like I was truly, putting her To Rest.  I knew, she knew she was loved...the story was told, and all that they had endured together was now open to be told & shared, for OTHERS to experience, as well.  She & her husband WERE able to leave a legacy of Hope & Love, even if it wasn't through the embodiment of Children.
by Kerry on Friday, 19 January 2007