Hearts have been on my mind a lot recently – especially since mine was recently examined up close and found to be in great shape after an initial scare.  We also attended a wonderful wedding in November where the song “One Hand, One Heart” from Westside Story was beautifully and lovingly performed and has stuck with me since then.

The last two years have been filled with progress, breakthroughs and happy times.  But it’s no secret to readers of the blog that they’ve also been filled with confusion, depression and despair.  I’ve written recently that the balance seems to be shifting for me towards acceptance and comfort with our “new” life.

I don’t know if I miraculously came to grips with our situation and embraced it, or if I simply stopped struggling against accepting the fact that we must look forward and can’t maintain hope that things will go back to the way they were.  I guess it’s an issue of semantics really since either way, there’s a lot less pain and anguish than there used to be – and that’s a good thing.

But back to hearts.  My being in the hospital several weeks ago underscored for us how much Mary Elizabeth and the kids need me.  But surprisingly, as I languished in the hospital with plenty of time to think (in between blood draws), I realized that I needed her just as badly.  Separation was difficult certainly because I was worried about her, but also because I really, really missed her.  I wanted her at my side keeping me company.  As you know our communication is not as easy as it was before the stroke, but I find a real comfort in her presence – in her just being with me.  And without her there I was bereft.

I confess that in the first year after the stroke, I was expecting Mary Elizabeth to die from another stroke. I didn’t tell too many people how I felt and I certainly didn’t publish it here, but it was a horrible confused time for us all. In thinking about the future, it just seemed likely that she wouldn’t be there with us in the long-term.  In some perverse way, that seemed easier for me to accept than a long life filled with the acute challenges faced by a stroke victim.  So when the doctor told us that Mary Elizabeth would likely have a normal lifespan, it was a bit of a blow – not in a disappointing way, of course – but a surprising challenge to what I had come to accept as an eventuality.

I think it might have been then that I began to mourn the loss of the old Mary Elizabeth and our old life together.  It became clear that she wouldn’t regain all of her capabilities and that I would be spending our hopefully long life together with a different person.

During that process though, something surprising happened.  My mental image of the old Mary Elizabeth – vivacious, chatty and active – was replaced by the new Mary Elizabeth – quiet, intense, and loving.

“Make of our hearts, one heart” goes the song and while the parameters our relationship have certainly changed, we are more of a unit than ever before.  Now I don’t mean to dis all you happy healthy couples out there, but it does seems like facing this adversity together brought us to this place.

So as I said a few Thanksgivings ago, there are a few reasons that I’m thankful for the stroke, and this is one of them.