The carer’s career

I wrote this poem after texting my husband to pick up some milk. It occurred to me that there are relationships everywhere that at some point one will send this message to the other. I then reflected on what that request meant to me in my relationship and realised it’s depth. Hidden in this mundane communication between two people was the loving support of a husband to a wife living with M.E.

I hope for others with M.E, chronic illnesses and carers alike that this resonates and is helpful.

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Can you pick up milk, I text you this morning

As you pick up my arms and lift me when I lose my hold,

And you walk each day to work (that it won’t let me do) without

Fear of it hitting during an important deadline

That only the steadfast and consistent can achieve.

—

Can you make dinner tonight, after being up since six

As you make my life that much easier (when it has me in its grip)

And I can switch on the oven and make you some tea, one sweetener,

And offer my ears whilst you tell me your day

As the days of secured success are behind me.

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Can you tell them I’m sorry I can’t come now

As you play dutiful ambassador (to inevitable disappointment)

Explaining my absence at our friends parties

When it flykicks our plans for the uncountable time

As I lie there remembering all our dances.

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Can they understand what you do, for M.E

As I know this was never in your repetoire

To play carer to the one who was vibrant at first

When it hit, it hit us too (and life ever changed)

And you kept me going, throughout the every day.

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One day I will pick up the milk, make dinner and dance at parties

One day I will care and hold your arms in mine

As we walk along together, (when it no longer hits)

Remembering your work was of every moment

Giving us the life we could choose to make.

***

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For the roots to my branches

My beloved husband DS 🙏💖💫