Making life too complicated.

I learned to build my days in large part on the basis of Jeanne's good days. That always revved me up. I grasped at the little things. A faint smile. A good appetite. A word or two. Interesting thing about life. One learns to make the most of it. To rally one's spirits. I suppose if one were very, very hungry, it wouldn't take much to satisfy one's appetite. Any kind of food might taste good. Or a sip of water to quench one's thirst. Maybe I was selfish. In wanting Jeanne to live. Even with Alzheimer's. For a long, long time. In a sense, Jeanne was meeting my need. Even though she may have been better off dying. Probably because maybe I would have wanted to die. If the positions were reversed. Maybe my inclination is to put my needs first and foremost. Of course, I tell myself that I learned acceptance. And patience. And tolerance. And maybe even something about love. And maybe I even make life more complicated than it is. --Jim Broede