The other day, I was talking about the years that I was caring for my husband after his stroke and before he died. I wanted to reference the traditional wedding vows that were part of the Anglican wedding service – An Order for Marriage - as cited in the Book of Common Prayer (as it was done in my day)…..
I, Cathy, take thee, Grant, to my wedded husband, to have
and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for
richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to
cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy
ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.
I was searching my memory for the words “in sickness and in health” but the only words that would come up were “till death do us part”. Seriously, I had to look up the whole passage. Not surprising, perhaps, since has been 5 decades since I said those words. And I meant them.
Through our 49 years of marriage, like many couples, we had our ups and downs. Some of those downs severly tested my commitment to this man and our relationship. But my commitment to him and to God won each challenge.
In the mid 2010s husband had a stroke and was tended to by our health care system. After which, the hospital returned him to me, along with a few brochures for community services. I was left to navigate this new world on my own. Between the health care system and community care providers, I did gather enough resources to ensure his well-being while I was at work.
It was a difficult period for me. “I didn’t sign up for this!” I complained to a friend when relating how frustrated I was with ‘the system’. I followed that immediately with “Well, actually, yes I did.” Somewhere in those vows said in love and confidence all those years ago were the words….’ to have and to hold…in sickness and in health…”
Fast forward to today. My husband has been gone for several years now. That is, his physical presence is not here. My strawberry blonde, barrel chested Scotsman slowly morphed into a lovely frail gentleman, who didn’t seem to remember much other than my name and who I was to him.
Yes, death has taken his physical form from the world, but his personality, his hopes and dreams, his talents, his love, still live on in my memory and in the stories I share with those who knew him and with some who didn’t.
Cathy Carphin is a Certified Grief Educator, writer and poet, living in Victoria. She leads healing conversations on grief. You can read more articles at grieftalk.substack.com and Cathy can be reached at [email protected].
You can read more articles on our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking at https://www.timescolonist.com/blogs/spiritually-speaking
