Sam and I went over to friends' house last night. We had a good time, chatting and playing cards. It was nice to get out. On the way home, I was sort of babbling about things I have read on this site, and things said in the afternoon chat.

Sam and I usually don't talk about anything stroke related, unless we have to. I mentioned my post about feeling a little overwhelmed and that as if the fact that I had a stroke is always "right in my face." GOing on, I whistfully sighed and told Sam I feel like I would love to have just 1 day where the fact that I had a stroke didn't intrude on my life - just 1 day.

The whole time, Sam drove quietly, letting me get everything out, then, when I was done, all he said was "I understand." So I asked Sam, "how come it is that you and I never discuss life after stroke?"

"Well, baby, I just thought it might be good for you to have 1 person to talk to who didn't bring up the fact that you had a stroke."

I was stunned. It never dawned on me that Sam might be doing that. Sometimes, I have felt as if Sam is just like everyone else - in denial of the fact, because I don't really have any "visable" deficits. I never thought to think that he would be trying to give me a little "normalcy" by not discussing the 60-ton gorilla in the room. After all, we both know it's there. He still has to catch me from time to time, or I will fall over. I still get exhausted very easily and I still use the wrong words for things. He lives with it every day of our life, just like I do. I never thought to suppose that he was trying to make life as much the way as it used to be - minus the chaos of 3 teen-agers and various friends, as he could for me. That is so sweet!!!!!!!!!

I didn't know how to process that last night, so I just thanked Sam and told him I love him. I had to sleep on that one to really understand it. This morning, it is so much more meeningful to me. What a wonderful thing Sam has been trying to give me, that little place of "refuge," so to speak, from having had a stroke, 1 place, 1 person, where I'm not reminded, all of the time, that I had a stroke.

That man can be so amazingly wonderful some times!