In a care center not far from my home resides a unique woman. This woman is in her sixties. She has been in the care center since she was thirty. She had had a stroke that left her paralyzed except for a little movement in her hands and neck. She can talk with much difficulty. Most people don't have the patience to wait long enough for her to finish a thought, as her speech comes very slowly and painstakingly, and is laregly unintelligible to the hurried listener.
She receives visits from time to time from her childhood friend, my mother-in-law. During one of her visits, my mother-in-law said to her friend, "I'm so sorry you've had such a hard life." In response, her friend replied, "I don't have a hard life. Everyone takes care of me and I don't have to do anything." What a wonderful attitude that must have been the product of the painful years of a personal refiner's fire. Her attitude is one of the things that make her unique. This is coming from a woman who has been in the care center for thirty-five years and counting. She has been in the care center longer than she hasn't. I would guess she doesn't have such a wonderful attitude all the time, but one simple statement in a brief conversation, especially in this situation, is powerful. It would have been very easy to start crying and say, "I hate this. Do you know how many times I've wished I could die?" Maybe she said that some at the beginning. But she didn't say it now.
Her nightmare started just days after she had given birth to her fifth child. As my mother-in-law unfolded the story about her childhood friend and I realized that this woman had been married and had children, I felt a strong sense of sorrow for her. She didn't get to raise her children. She was deprived of a life in the world of the living, where people take action and make things happen and live. My thoughts went next to the spouse she had had. I assumed they had divorced so that he could go on with his life. I asked about him, and to my surprise (and shame) she reported that they are still married and not only are they married, but he visits and reads to her every night. In the beginning he tried to take care of her in their own home, and, realizing that she needed around the clock care and that it was more than he was physically capable of providing, he moved her to a care center. But he didn't abandon her. He raised his five children alone. He took her to the temple once a week until her health wouldn't allow her to do so. But always he comes. Every day faithfully.
Recently this couple's family and friends organized a reunion in their behalf. My mother-in-law was in attendance and witnessed a formal honoring of this devoted husband. At the close of receiving what I imagine was an abundance of honor and praise, he stood to speak. He stated tactfully yet kindly, in so many words, that the honor bestowed upon him was unnecessary. "This is just what you do when you love someone." He said that though his wife may not be as outwardly beautiful as she once was, to him, she was beautiful. Besides the good attitude she chooses to have, her husband's love for her is the other thing that makes her unique.
Blessed is the man or woman who is the recipient of such devoted love, but ours is the choice to love someone so devotedly.
