This is our reality. For better or worse, good or bad, sickness or health. And I took vows for that. So long ago when all we could imagine was my medical career and Jed's tenure. Sure we wanted a family and kids but I never imagined I'd be living in the White House. Never imagined I'd be the First Lady of the United States or that Jed would be president. We are so far from where we started and yet this is our reality. We have three beautiful girls. One that's married, one that hasn't quite found her place in this world, and one who has just finished her final year at Georgetown. That is our reality.
We are such an integral part of the dream that is the United States. My husband works in the most famous ovular room in the world. I wear expensive gowns at state dinners and shake surgically capable hands with dignitaries and monarchs and celebrities. This is our reality.
Jed has a scar on his side where the bullet put a through and through through him at Roslyn. I thought for a moment he might be dead. This is my reality. I give Jed Betaseron injections and hid his condition from the American public and his best friend. That is my reality.
My husband accepted a censure from congress. My baby was kidnapped. My husband relinquished command. The memories linger and from time to time I wake up so find Jed in the throes of some nightmare. I ask what it was about and he won't tell me. I know though. This is our reality.
My husband has given speeches to almost every major delegation possible. I have given speeches to every minor delegation one might think of. This is our reality. Our closest family friend had a heart attack and Jed brokered a peace in the Middle East. We don't know if it will last but this is our reality.
Jed left for China. He walked onto that big, blue, plane and within a few hours could not move anything below his neck. Our luck had finally run out but we had a summit to go to and Jed wouldn't stop doing his job. Wouldn't turn that plane around, wouldn't save himself. He decided to deal with the medical ramifications because this was his reality and he was determined to make the most of what little physical strength he had left. I watched him descend the airplane stairs in the arms of his new body man. Be wheeled from place to place by his staff. I looked on as fatigue wiped him out. And I sat next to him as a 15 minute nap word on to last 3 hours. And as he slept the pain on his face was evident. I'd revel in being beside him and pray I'd be able to enjoy him in years to come. I waited outside as he pushed his limits to get North Korea talks. I worried about him. And, I observed he had sweat through all the garments he wore and struggled to maintain consciousness. I caught him when he fell forward unconscious into my arms. Choked back the panic. This is our reality.
Jed wants to quash the Sanctity of Marriage act. To show his face in the West Wing. To let people know he's still in control. To let himself know he's still in control. I warn him of pushing too hard and rescinding all the progress he's made since China. But he still wants to go and he asks me for help. Because he can't put his pants on. And he can't look me in the eye when he says it. And I see the mist descend over his blue eyes and the frustration on his face. I'll help him, even if I disagree with his little outing. He needs my help and I won't tell him "I told you so". Because he's telling himself already. I help him pull his slacks over his feet. He puts a square hand on the bedpost and I wrap my arm around his waist. I help him stand. He's put a lot of his weight on me and I can feel how helpless he is. I grunt with the weight as I lift and help him pull his slacks on. We sit back down on the bed.
"This is why you take vows." He reflects.
"This is why." And it's all I can do not to bury my face into his shoulder and start sobbing.
This is our reality and it scares me to death.