“Michael, do you know what time we’re supposed to be at my mom’s?”

In a relationship I am almost always both very happy with and very comforted by, I can sense the contrast as I’ve started a habit of waiting minutes after asking Michael for something before following up on my request—not out of patience, but to prove a point. After ten minutes or more of waiting, when I finally do follow up, Michael can’t say that he was about to respond or that he was just finishing up a task before getting back to me—though sometimes, contrary to my expectations, I find out that he was just taking a little longer to respond and that he did, after all, just need to finish up a task. Continue reading →

Michael came home tonight rejuvenated from playing racquetball, excited to see me, and eager to bring the In-and-Out he got with his racquetball partner for the two of us to eat tonight.

He knew that when he left to play racquetball, I had just started taking a nap.

He knew that when I take naps, I tend to be out for hours, that when I am wiped out, it takes me a long time to bounce back.

He knew that I wouldn’t really have the energy or the desire to make Spaghetti squash, the meal we had agreed on for the night.

He would tell me, an hour or so later, that he envisioned walking inside the apartment and finding me asleep in bed. I would wake up when he came in the room, realize I hadn’t started the spaghetti squash, and start apologizing—then, he would tell me that it was all okay and that he had dinner taken care of.

Michael did not know that although I was very wiped out, about an hour before I thought he would be home from racquetball I got out of bed, started the squash in the oven, and stayed up to clean and get some school work done. Continue reading →

Michael, my husband, has Cerebral Palsy. While he is able to walk, all of his muscles are contracted, and his movements tend to be broad and imprecise. At a glance, he looks pretty disabled: he is difficult to understand by most who do not know him and some who know him well; his walk leaves his torso rocking from side to side, and his fingers fumble to achieve a solid grasp on whatever he is holding or trying to manipulate Continue reading →