My husband's cancer diagnosis 3 years ago brought up how much I loved him and how much I needed him around.
He's handy, for one thing, and I am fix-it "challenged." He's much better at Crossword puzzles than I am, so it's nice to do them together. We like absolutely opposite things on TV but he's willing to watch my shows if I'll watch his...or at least READ while he's watching his. :)
We simply fit together. I love flowers and he's the gardener. He loves good food and I provide it. He loves golf and I hate the heat, so I stay home and write. He knows how to help the kids with farm, garden, or renovation issues and I'm good at providing goodies they wouldn't make or buy for themselves. In return, they provide us with a lot of support and help.
I'm grateful for him. He's not perfect, but he's a decent, kind person and a caring husband. He and I don't always agree, but we almost always can work it out...tomorrow if not today.
So I do what I can to make his treatments and recovery doable, including accepting the crabby days when he feels rotten. My reward? He's still here, and he wants to recover completely.
And then I think of the women in the domestic violence shelter. Would they want their batterer to recover? Would they make a big effort to improve his odds? Would they love him more when he was down or weak, or would they be grateful for their safety?
I can't answer these questions and I'm so thankful I don't have to.