As I sat in my chair last night, working on a Christmas gift for one of the family, I smiled listening to hubby chuckle at the TV. I would look up and see whatever thing he pointed out to me, agree that it was funny, chuckle myself, and go on back to what I was doing.

Camaraderie – celebration – togetherness – all these and more.

It has been a rough month or so for my heArt. At the end of last month he thought he had a lingering cold. I was busy with work trips to the big city and could not keep a close eye on him. Early in the morning (just after midnight) on October 5th I was awakened by him yelling from his chair. I’d been sleeping soundly in my bed.

He couldn’t breathe he told me in gasps.

I called 9-1-1. Then I got dressed and made sure lights were on so the EMTs could see which house they were needed to attend. They hooked him up to oxygen and transported him to the hospital 9 miles away as I followed in my car.

Congestive Heart Failure. Well, they kept saying CHF – so as not to scare me, I guess. But I was armed with my cell phone and google and soon knew what the initials stood for. All the better to be prepared for whatever might come next.

Three years ago none of us were prepared when he suffered a cardiac arrest and was transported via helicopter to Anchorage.

This time I knew what might lie ahead. The nurse, ER doc and the hospitalist all conferred. Tests were run. Lasix was started. The man started to lose some of the fluid that was strangling him, thankfully. There was discussion of admitting him to the hospital (or, life flighting him to Anchorage). Discussion continued once Anchorage was ruled out about whether to admit to the medical floor or to the Intensive Care Unit.

Finally he was discharged back into my care with orders to get in to see his internist ASAP.

We are now 24 days in to this next chapter of my heArt’s saga. We’ve seen his doctors three times. A heart echo is scheduled and another trip to the doctor after that. We will see his cardiologist as soon as we can get in to that office.

And, as he improves and sits there chuckling at something inane on the TV I smile and knit, smile and knit, smile and knit.

We don’t know how much longer we have together. We are enjoying these days as they come. It’s the little things, you see. It’s the breakfast banter each morning with two of the grands. It’s the giggling coming from the garage as he teaches the oldest granddaughter how to braid a whip. It’s the stories I hear after work about another grandson and his girlfriend coming by to do their laundry.

It’s the “Graaaaaaand-paw!” and the “Gramps” and the “old man” or “Pops” terminology as each daughter and son-in-love and grandchild calls or stops by to banter and bestow (and receive) love from my heArt.

It’s the hopeful plans we have of returning to the “scene of the crime” to celebrate our 50th anniversary in the spring with friends in Ohio. It’s the hopeful plans of then celebrating with family and friends here in Alaska on the real date of our anniversary.

Those things keep us going. Those things remind us to say “I love you” each time we part, if even for a trip to the store.

You never know.