A Toast to a Beloved Supporter

Tomorrow is our 5th Wedding Anniversary. The traditional gift is something made of wood, symbolising strength and wisdom, the developing of a strong relationship with deep roots.

The day I had my stroke was barely 3 months after we were married. I woke that fateful Sunday morning and couldn't move. My husband was roused from his sleep by my stuttering panicked voice. He had the home phone in one hand calling an ambulance and my mobile in the other calling my parents. He never left my side in all the chaos that ensued. He had lost his father to cancer a few months previously and he was going through hell already, and now his new bride was ill and had no recollection of who he was.

I have never remembered our wedding day, our honeymoon or much of what had happened in the months prior to my stroke. My mind had lost a significant chunk of memories, but my heart knew I wanted him close by. I remember one of the nurses in the stroke unit getting quite irate because I was crying and didn't want him to leave at nights. Lucky there was another nurse on the ward who showed us compassion, helped to calm me down and allow my husband to leave knowing I was in good hands.

In the months that followed I slowly regained some memories of our early relationship and the months leading up to our wedding, although I have never remembered the actual wedding itself. My husband stuck by me, cared for me and was so loving and understanding, even though I couldn't reciprocate the same level with him. He never gave up hope that I would make a recovery. He still prays that my memories will be restored.

So, a toast to the man who stayed with me, who cared for me, who carried me, who listened to my stuttering and slurred speech and never made fun of my inabilities, who learned to walk slower, who learned to live slower: my husband David.