Peeling Back Layers to find Truth

My wife and I recently passed our 11th anniversary, virtually unnoticed. Not even a card between us. Hadn't even talked about it until today. She has no reason for not mentioning it, other than she probably forgot because we had some bad weather. I have no excuse. Never crossed my mind. 

Our journey together began November 11, 2007. Our friendship stretches back another 10 years. November 27th was our 11th anniversary, and as noted above - it wasn't. 

This is the truth of our life together - Kim has had a profound effect on me in many ways. She has cultivated a love for animals and a desire to save the injured we come across. She has taught me the true meanings of patience, perseverance and forgiveness. In her I learned what it means to be accepted as I am. She has never tried to change me, rather she encourages me to be more of what I already am.

When I first fell in love with Kim, I made this vow: "My life for your love." And I do owe her my life now. What most don't know is the toll it took on her when the doctors told us I had early-onset Alzheimer's.

I am the only one who knows the devastating criticism, insults, emotional and verbal abuse my wife endured at the hands of her mother while we were in Montana. Kim was there for her step-dad, Bob - not for her mother. When Bob passed away her mother sold the company Bob had wanted us to take over - bankrupting us in the end.

If that wasn't enough, Kim went to Wisconsin for months to look after her birth father, Bill while cancer took his life, one day at a time.Shortly after burying him, we lost our home in Texas to Hurricane Harvey. We were fortunate to have her dad's home to move to, and she is steadily making her marks.

I let Kim down. That's the hard truth, the cold hard truth. I wasn't listening. I didn't realize the price she was paying, the toll on her mind, body and spirit. While dealing with my psychopathy, she bore the loss of her step-dad, the betrayal and anger of her mother, followed by the loss of Bill - months spent by his side as the cancer claimed his body. She was with him, holding his hand when he breathed his last. Then the hurricane. I was in Texas salvaging what I could while she mourned.

I don't know if I could have handled it better. It took years for the doctors and psychologist to restore some semblance of hope. Enough that I no longer wanted to die. It's only been this year that I actually began to want to live just a bit longer. And that is because I have so much to make up for, at least in my mind. Kim has never blamed me, been angry at me, wished she'd never married me - she still has hope for me - hope I don't quite share.

I have spent a lifetime hiding the truth, or omitting parts of the truth to avoid being labeled. It was a waste of time.

There is far more of me in my character, Lazarus Solaris who I write about in my novels, then anyone but Kim and my psychologist would ever believe. I'm not a 'good person'. I've done many good things, all in an effort to make amends for the life I chose to live; the pain I caused so many; and my purposeful isolation from my family and my children.

Kim saved me when I thought I was saving her. I wasn't. I was slowly tearing her down. I don't any more. There's a lot I don't or won't do anymore.

My life for her love. In time, my promise will become self-fulfilling.

I love her. I always will. She is why I get up every day and decide to live, no matter how deep the depression or the weight of my past. I live because of her love. Not God's - not anyone or anything else can stay my hand.

I am not worthy. I know it, but it doesn't stop me. I can only hope we have 11 more years together, even if she never mentions our anniversary again.