The privilege of caring

I remember a couple of years back, during a controversy over a man wanting to "pull the plug" on his wife who was being kept alive on a respirator. I was of the opinion that it was time, but my doctor made a comment that made me think. His comment was that if she died, her husband would be denied the privilege of caring for her.


This comment gave way to some questions, and perhaps even some answers. Why do we have those among us who are born with extra needs? Why do we have some who lose their abilities and must accept care from others? How do these people fit in?


I believe that the answer is simply the one given me by my doctor. It is a privilege to be allowed to care for someone.


You see it all the time - the woman with Alzheimer's whose husband ensures that she is dressed, her hair coiffed and her makeup on, as it was when she could care for it herself. You know she didn't do all this, and picture him lovingly allowing her to keep this dignity, even though she is beyond caring.


Then there's the woman or man who faithfully goes to see their spouse in a long-term care facility. The marriage as they knew it is over. It is unlikely they will ever live in the same room or share the same bed again. The visits get to be routine, but some days, something wonderful happens. The husband, locked in his own world, remembers his wife's name and that she is his wife and he loves her.


The wife, who has born the silence of a man who she knows loves her deeply, receives an unaccustomed and rare "thank you" or "I love you" from her taciturn spouse.


These are the moments they live for.