I asked for ten years. It’s all I was expecting. I’d read about Friedrich’s Ataxia, knew the life expectancy, knew what I was getting into before we ever married.
He knew too. He knew about my medical issues- that we probably wouldn’t ever be able to have children. We weren’t expecting much.
We would live as long as we could in a crumbling farmhouse filled with books.
It’s been 12 years. He was stronger than I ever imagined. He’s exceeded the life expectancy for FA by many years and isn’t even in a wheelchair. That diagnoses has changed several times over the years. More recent medical knowledge points to a much milder condition.
We have children. Five now, sometimes more. Four by birth. It was never easy. I had difficult pregnancies and we fostered over those years. We adopted. I recovered from c-sections. Life was never sparse, though, but always brimming at the edges threatening to overwhelm in a flood.
Life, that fleeting thing that we looked to be sparing with us, exploded into abundance.
We’ve plastered, dry walled and run pipes in a frenzy to keep up. The house is looks different, and bursting at the seems with living epistles.
We’re not the same people we were then.
We’ve come to expect so much more.
Tomorrow we’ll go out to eat and dream our dreams for the coming year. They still won’t be big enough.