“How is Barbara doing?” I asked mom.
“A little bit better everyday,” she remarked. Underneath her tones I can hear the frustration. “She is trying really hard to walk, but she is obviously still in the wheel chair.”
“Can she talk, yet?” I ask.
“She still can’t talk very well. She is going through therapy. Because of her poor circulation she had to get her ring resized. It was a very traumatic moment for her when they took the ring off her finger at the hospital.”
I looked down at my food. I wonder what it would be like to have to work to eat it. I wonder what it would be like to not be able to speak to my parents about it. I wonder a lot of things.
“But then the other night at small group Dwayne told everybody he had an announcement. He said, ‘I know there has been some confusion around here with Barbara’s ring being gone, but when I said ‘in sickness and in health until death do us part, I didn’t mean until it got uncomfortable, I meant until we die. With all of you here, I want to rededicate my marriage vows to Barbara.’ Then he put the resized ring back on her finger.”
“Wow,” I said dumbfounded.
“He is a good guy,” mom remarks. “She couldn’t talk, but she could still bawl like a baby.”