It seems that I have become the primary caretaker of our home and property. Once upon a time this was a shared duty but, as my husband’s communication skills decreased, it has passed entirely to me. I am the one who gets to make all the calls for repairs, I am the one who deals with the people when they come to do the repairs and, evidently, I am the one who gets blamed when things go wrong.

We recently had some work done on our gutters and there is a leak. Perhaps I am too sensitive, but having my husband point this out to me before my first cup of coffee this morning tended to irritate me. I know the gutter is leaking, I know it shouldn’t be, what am I supposed to do about it? It has been leaking in this particular spot since we moved in 20 years ago. Maybe it’s bad design on the part of the original architect, should I tear the house down and start over? I bit back my words, poured my coffee and told him we would look at it later.

I am doing my best to care for him, for our home, for our lives. There will be leaks along the way, there will be challenges I cannot deal with, there will be anger and frustration. My challenge will be to make sure that I have ways to remain calm and respond to him appropriately. I need to remember that it must be as difficult for him to watch me muddle through what were once his tasks as it is for me to do them. I will stop before angry words come out, take a breath, put on a smile and then ask his advice, “so, what should we do next, dear?”.