Five years ago today my husband, in his mid-forties, was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. There were discussions of a heart transplant.
Eleven months prior, I woke up without my sight. A little cane back, not much, and I miss it every day.
This morning my healthy husband lays sleeping beside me. I would have missed that infinitely more.
They say you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.
Almost-gone will cure you of that.
