“Betty”
Oct 21, 2019Betty came to visit us in the hospital today. Rick was there since last night. His brain was bleeding. Doctors said he’d be fine. But I cried and prayed to God. I didn’t like seeing the tube stick out of his head even if it was there to keep him alive. I got my own tube in me. Had to get my gallbladder removed. Doctors said I’d be fine, too. But I just can’t help crying. When did we get so old? Here we are, Rick and me, in the hospital together, in separate beds in separate rooms. 38 years of marriage couldn’t keep us in separate beds. And now here we are, on separate death beds. Betty says I’m just being dramatic. What does she know. Old bag hasn’t spent a day of her life in a hospital. She just jogs and jogs all day, keeps her old ticker in tip top shape. She just wants to keep rubbing it in my face that she’s 15 years older and doing better than me and Rick. She’s on husband number five, always trading in for a younger model. Two died, two just up and left her. She let the mortician take care of all the paperwork on the two that died. She went off to Cabo both times. Had herself a good time, drank piña coladas, tipped all the bell boys. Never saw her shed no tears. She just gritted her teeth and kept jogging on forward, enjoying every minute the good Lord gave her. I don’t know how she does it. Rick and me we’ve been slowly falling apart for years, hanging on to each other for support. He’s been my rock and I sure as hell hope I’ve become his. I don’t know who of us is gonna go first, but I sure am glad Betty will be around to cheer the other up.