Chronic illness, marriage, kids, family, etc.

[Guest guest]

When I met my husband (13 years older than I) I was a senior incollege, having begun college a bit ahead of schedule. He proposedto me on Valentine's Day, and sent me a card saying "Will you marry me?" each anniversary thereafter, and on each Valentine's Day!He knew all about my medical stuff, and I knew a lot about hisHolocaust Survivor stuff. We were well-matched, in so many ways.We decided to divide up the housework according to who hated to do what task the least. . and then Hans said, "n, I am willing todo all of it that I can, including cooking if you will do ONE thing!"Seemed like a pretty good deal, so I said yes, and asked him whatthat one thing was. He blushed (this was a man who could build ahouse, chop

down trees, cut

boards and 2-by-4s, etc., install plumbing,gas lines, electricity, shingle the roof, plaster the walls, install and design the woodwork, paint anything, lay the floors, put in the appliances,install the furnace, etc.It turned out that the one thing that he wanted me to do was to take over taking the car (later on, cars) to the shop and oversee their maintenance, to which I happily agreed.Hans could clean anything: toilets, walls, floors, tubs, showers,shower heads, kitchen appliances and just loved to wash dishesbefore we had a dish washing machine, though he still loved it.He could bake, cook, and even learn new recipes!When he was diagnosed with liver cancer, and told that he hadabout 11 months to live (this due to a parasite he had acquiredduring the family's exile in Switzerland), he clutched me, huggedme, and (thinking of the children) sobbed and said, "And I alwaysthought that

you were going to go first!"He died when our youngest, wcf, was about 16.5. Although wehad done our best to prepare the children for what was to come,we had probably prepared one another better.I remember thinking, after the memorial services, that a relativelyshort (25 years) marriage was far better than 70 years of tortureand suffering. Hans was the best; it was harder on the kids thanon me, though my brothers and their families also missed him.After his death, I was hospitalized for treatment of CF, and one ofmy internists and a CF doctor dropped in to visit. They asked whether I would receive, in my view, the same high quality ofcare that I had received while Hans was alive. I assured themthat I had every confidence in them. A small still voice was whispering to me to be quiet. I was, and then when the nurse camein to insert the PICC line, I told

her what they had said, and she justcracked up. She said, "Poor things! If only they had known that your husband was working on his plays and you were helping withthe dialogue, and that was why he was writing on those yellow legaltablets!" She had nailed it, ans we both cracked up, even though it made me cough!My husband, Hans Steinkellner, was a playwright, and had 37 playsperformed in California, Illinois, and New York (off Broadway, though)I found myself somehow, but I think the effect on the kids was rathersadder and more lasting, which is understandable.Love to each and every one of you, married, partnered, renting together, or whatever you are doing--so long as there is love to sustaineach of you,n RojasP.S. My spell-check tells me that I have misspelled "Steinkellner!" M.~

[Guest guest]

Thank you, n, for letting me share in your lovely memories. Hans was a wonderful man, wasn't he?love SharonThis email is a natural hand made product. The slight variations in spelling and grammar enhance its individual character and beauty and in no way are to be considered flaws or defects. To: ABC-Diabetes-International <ABC-Diabetes-International >Sent: Tue, October 19, 2010 7:09:26 PMSubject: Chronic illness, marriage, kids, family, etc.

When I met my husband (13 years older than I) I was a senior incollege, having begun college a bit ahead of schedule. He proposedto me on Valentine's Day, and sent me a card saying "Will you marry me?" each anniversary thereafter, and on each Valentine's Day!He knew all about my medical stuff, and I knew a lot about hisHolocaust Survivor stuff. We were well-matched, in so many ways.We decided to divide up the housework according to who hated to do what task the least. . and then Hans said, "n, I am willing todo all of it that I can, including cooking if you will do ONE thing!"Seemed like a pretty good deal, so I said yes, and asked him whatthat one thing was. He blushed (this was a man who could build ahouse, chop

down trees, cut

boards and 2-by-4s, etc., install plumbing,gas lines, electricity, shingle the roof, plaster the walls, install and design the woodwork, paint anything, lay the floors, put in the appliances,install the furnace, etc.It turned out that the one thing that he wanted me to do was to take over taking the car (later on, cars) to the shop and oversee their maintenance, to which I happily agreed.Hans could clean anything: toilets, walls, floors, tubs, showers,shower heads, kitchen appliances and just loved to wash dishesbefore we had a dish washing machine, though he still loved it.He could bake, cook, and even learn new recipes!When he was diagnosed with liver cancer, and told that he hadabout 11 months to live (this due to a parasite he had acquiredduring the family's exile in Switzerland), he clutched me, huggedme, and (thinking of the children) sobbed and said, "And I alwaysthought that

you were going to go first!"He died when our youngest, wcf, was about 16.5. Although wehad done our best to prepare the children for what was to come,we had probably prepared one another better.I remember thinking, after the memorial services, that a relativelyshort (25 years) marriage was far better than 70 years of tortureand suffering. Hans was the best; it was harder on the kids thanon me, though my brothers and their families also missed him.After his death, I was hospitalized for treatment of CF, and one ofmy internists and a CF doctor dropped in to visit. They asked whether I would receive, in my view, the same high quality ofcare that I had received while Hans was alive. I assured themthat I had every confidence in them. A small still voice was whispering to me to be quiet. I was, and then when the nurse camein to insert the PICC line, I told

her what they had said, and she justcracked up. She said, "Poor things! If only they had known that your husband was working on his plays and you were helping withthe dialogue, and that was why he was writing on those yellow legaltablets!" She had nailed it, ans we both cracked up, even though it made me cough!My husband, Hans Steinkellner, was a playwright, and had 37 playsperformed in California, Illinois, and New York (off Broadway, though)I found myself somehow, but I think the effect on the kids was rathersadder and more lasting, which is understandable.Love to each and every one of you, married, partnered, renting together, or whatever you are doing--so long as there is love to sustaineach of you,n RojasP.S. My spell-check tells me that I have misspelled "Steinkellner!" M.~

[Guest guest]

Wow n, what a joyful story of this day. Nice memories you shared with us, thank you. One day I will share mine with you all.

Nukhet

Subject: Chronic illness, marriage, kids, family, etc.To: "ABC-Diabetes-International" <ABC-Diabetes-International >Date: Wednesday, October 20, 2010, 5:09 AM

When I met my husband (13 years older than I) I was a senior incollege, having begun college a bit ahead of schedule. He proposedto me on Valentine's Day, and sent me a card saying "Will you marry me?" each anniversary thereafter, and on each Valentine's Day!He knew all about my medical stuff, and I knew a lot about hisHolocaust Survivor stuff. We were well-matched, in so many ways.We decided to divide up the housework according to who hated to do what task the least. . and then Hans said, "n, I am willing todo all of it that I can, including cooking if you will do ONE thing!"Seemed like a pretty good deal, so I said yes, and asked him whatthat one thing was. He blushed (this was a man who could build ahouse, chop down trees, cut boards and 2-by-4s, etc., install plumbing,gas lines, electricity, shingle the roof, plaster the walls, install and design the woodwork, paint

anything, lay the floors, put in the appliances,install the furnace, etc.It turned out that the one thing that he wanted me to do was to take over taking the car (later on, cars) to the shop and oversee their maintenance, to which I happily agreed.Hans could clean anything: toilets, walls, floors, tubs, showers,shower heads, kitchen appliances and just loved to wash dishesbefore we had a dish washing machine, though he still loved it.He could bake, cook, and even learn new recipes!When he was diagnosed with liver cancer, and told that he hadabout 11 months to live (this due to a parasite he had acquiredduring the family's exile in Switzerland), he clutched me, huggedme, and (thinking of the children) sobbed and said, "And I alwaysthought that you were going to go first!"He died when our youngest, wcf, was about 16.5. Although wehad done our best to prepare the children for

what was to come,we had probably prepared one another better.I remember thinking, after the memorial services, that a relativelyshort (25 years) marriage was far better than 70 years of tortureand suffering. Hans was the best; it was harder on the kids thanon me, though my brothers and their families also missed him.After his death, I was hospitalized for treatment of CF, and one ofmy internists and a CF doctor dropped in to visit. They asked whether I would receive, in my view, the same high quality ofcare that I had received while Hans was alive. I assured themthat I had every confidence in them. A small still voice was whispering to me to be quiet. I was, and then when the nurse camein to insert the PICC line, I told her what they had said, and she justcracked up. She said, "Poor things! If only they had known that your husband was working on his

plays and you were helping withthe dialogue, and that was why he was writing on those yellow legaltablets!" She had nailed it, ans we both cracked up, even though it made me cough!My husband, Hans Steinkellner, was a playwright, and had 37 playsperformed in California, Illinois, and New York (off Broadway, though)I found myself somehow, but I think the effect on the kids was rathersadder and more lasting, which is understandable.Love to each and every one of you, married, partnered, renting together, or whatever you are doing--so long as there is love to sustaineach of you,n RojasP.S. My spell-check tells me that I have misspelled "Steinkellner!" M.~

[Guest guest]

Hi n, What a precious story that you told. I am glad that you have such found thoughts of your wonderful husband and friend. Margaret A. CoteTo: ABC-Diabetes-International <ABC-Diabetes-International >Sent: Tue, October 19, 2010

9:09:26 PMSubject: Chronic illness, marriage, kids, family, etc.

When I met my husband (13 years older than I) I was a senior incollege, having begun college a bit ahead of schedule. He proposedto me on Valentine's Day, and sent me a card saying "Will you marry me?" each anniversary thereafter, and on each Valentine's Day!He knew all about my medical stuff, and I knew a lot about hisHolocaust Survivor stuff. We were well-matched, in so many ways.We decided to divide up the housework according to who hated to do what task the least. . and then Hans said, "n, I am willing todo all of it that I can, including cooking if you will do ONE thing!"Seemed like a pretty good deal, so I said yes, and asked him whatthat one thing was. He blushed (this was a man who could build ahouse, chop

down trees, cut

boards and 2-by-4s, etc., install plumbing,gas lines, electricity, shingle the roof, plaster the walls, install and design the woodwork, paint anything, lay the floors, put in the appliances,install the furnace, etc.It turned out that the one thing that he wanted me to do was to take over taking the car (later on, cars) to the shop and oversee their maintenance, to which I happily agreed.Hans could clean anything: toilets, walls, floors, tubs, showers,shower heads, kitchen appliances and just loved to wash dishesbefore we had a dish washing machine, though he still loved it.He could bake, cook, and even learn new recipes!When he was diagnosed with liver cancer, and told that he hadabout 11 months to live (this due to a parasite he had acquiredduring the family's exile in Switzerland), he clutched me, huggedme, and (thinking of the children) sobbed and said, "And I alwaysthought that

you were going to go first!"He died when our youngest, wcf, was about 16.5. Although wehad done our best to prepare the children for what was to come,we had probably prepared one another better.I remember thinking, after the memorial services, that a relativelyshort (25 years) marriage was far better than 70 years of tortureand suffering. Hans was the best; it was harder on the kids thanon me, though my brothers and their families also missed him.After his death, I was hospitalized for treatment of CF, and one ofmy internists and a CF doctor dropped in to visit. They asked whether I would receive, in my view, the same high quality ofcare that I had received while Hans was alive. I assured themthat I had every confidence in them. A small still voice was whispering to me to be quiet. I was, and then when the nurse camein to insert the PICC line, I told

her what they had said, and she justcracked up. She said, "Poor things! If only they had known that your husband was working on his plays and you were helping withthe dialogue, and that was why he was writing on those yellow legaltablets!" She had nailed it, ans we both cracked up, even though it made me cough!My husband, Hans Steinkellner, was a playwright, and had 37 playsperformed in California, Illinois, and New York (off Broadway, though)I found myself somehow, but I think the effect on the kids was rathersadder and more lasting, which is understandable.Love to each and every one of you, married, partnered, renting together, or whatever you are doing--so long as there is love to sustaineach of you,n RojasP.S. My spell-check tells me that I have misspelled "Steinkellner!" M.~