Caretaking

As many of you know my beloved, Jim had an injury while attempting to revive his basketball career at age 52, mind you he hasn't played in 20 years, but he thought he would run with the young wolves and relive his days of glory. High School glory. They don't have a BB team at MIT.
So, he falls and ruptures his achilles tendon, that is the one that runs down your leg and attaches to your foot, the strongest one on the human body and the one that allows you to walk, run, function basically. He had a brilliant surgeon, Dr. Angus McBryde, who wouldn't go for a surgeon with that name. He has been in bed now since last Friday, he is weak, depressed, and sad I think that time has caught up with him, it is the age syndrome. We all age, many of us age faster than others, those that smoke, drink heavily, eat doughnuts and fried chicken once a day, but Jim has done any of those bad things, he just grew complacent with his ageing never dreaming that one day he would be 52. He has always been the golden boy, and now he has a crown of grew curls framing his beautiful blue eyes and his arms are weak and his leg is useless and he is sad and I am tired from cooking so many healthy meals and making sure he doesn't have a fever and just running myself mad with this caretaking.

But the oddest thing has happened. I have a helper. Forrest Gump, our two year old kitty with three legs (born that way) has stepped up to the challenge. She has always preferred Jim to me and I have always been jealous of that, but now she is sleeping on his injured leg, actually sleeping on it. She won't leave his side. Her instinct has told her that something is wrong with him and she is so dear. I couldn't make it without Forrest Gump.

Life is like a box of chocolates you never know what you are going to get. I got lucky 15 years ago and got my beloved, Jim.