For Better or Worse

This week, I have a new perspective on what people say when they make their marriage vows.

I am a runner. I am still a runner. When the going gets tough, I have to sneak away, hide and piece together the pieces, before I can come back and stand beside whoever it is who needs me before I can make good my part of any sort.

Since Dad's diagnosis, I have been itching to run for the hills. And finally, last week, I could in the guise of a work travel. 7 days and night on my own, in gloomy, wet cold England where I had wanted to let the autumn air and leave fall envelope me in its deep, dark embrace.

And so I did. Walking in the rain, staring into space on my endless train rides across the country. And I have returned - refreshed and recharge. Ready to take on come what may.

But as I look around me in my local environment, I cannot help but feel sad for my Mom. For while I can run when I need to and want to, take a hiatus from all this: Mom is stuck where she is. Because she is his wife. She is his partner.

And you know what? As tired as she is, her vows keeps her going and so, she sees no need to run.

And we wonder why I am still on my own - after all this time?