He knows how much I struggle with getting out of bed, getting dressed, and getting myself to work. He knows it takes me hours before I can even get my socks on. He knows I hurt so much and my body is so stiff that I can't get a bowl out of the cabinet, can't grab a spoon out of the drawer, and can't reach for the cereal box on the shelf. Standing at the stove cooking any kind of breakfast in the morning is never possible. So he helps me out.
He knows that I'm not able to get out of bed to get a drink of water so he fills a water glass for me every night and puts it on the dresser on my side of the bed. In the mornings he wakes me up when he leaves at 6:30. (By waking up at that time it gives me a better chance of being able to be to work at 9:00. Even though I'm awake, I can't do anything but sit and stretch for quite some time. No dressing, no showering, no putting makeup on - those things happen gradually over a couple hours.)
And every morning when I finally get to the dining room, he has two pieces of cooked bacon waiting for me. A cereal bowl, a spoon, and the box of cereal are sitting on the table. On the counter- a loaf of bread, peanut butter, a paper towel and a knife so I can make my peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch.
Since he's doing that much for me, the least I can do is make a quilt that will make him look good at the Disaster Auction next month. It still has a ways to go, but it's closer than it was on Monday.
