The depression has been dark. Hubby has been kind. Yesterday was one in a series of days that he took care of me both physically and emotionally. In the quiet darkness of our bedroom, I lean into his arms. I whisper thank you for taking care of me today. He brushes hair from my face, leans into my ear and whispers back the last words I heard before sleep came, "You're worth taking care of."
Words he repeated again by mornings light, just to make sure that I had heard them. I shake my head, I don't understand. But I am grateful that he does. I'm worth the effort, even though sometimes it is great.