For 17 years she nursed her sick husband
I was telling my father about the woman who phoned me and demanded that I stop calling her husband at the weekend. She said women like me steal other people’s husbands instead of getting their own. I apologised and promised that I would never ‘disturb’ her darling. Her husband is the garbage man and we have to call him to collect. But who am I to disturb the woman’s peace. I am sure he can get other customers who will not ‘disturb’ him.
Anyway, there I was telling my father this, when a woman walked up to us and asked: “That was your grandfather?” and before I could say no, she said, “Sorry’’ and walked away. You see, I was at my father’s 11-year-old grave talking to an imaginary him. A few metres away lay my uncle, in a freshly-dug grave, covered with wreaths. There by the grave stood a virtuous woman, his widow.
My uncle and aunt met 32 years ago and were married for more than 20 years. Well into their marriage, he developed kidney failure. So for 17 years he lived on dialysis, with his wife as his personal caretaker. She nursed him till the day he died.
I have read that among other functions, kidneys filter waste from the blood. In case of kidney failure, the filtering has to be done artificially. You cannot live if waste is not removed. Dialysis is an artificial process of eliminating waste and unwanted water from the blood. It lasts about three to four hours a week. The blood circulates outside the patient’s body and goes through a machine that filters it. The blood comes out of the patient’s body through a catheter. The filtered blood then returns to the patient via another catheter. Now imagine 17 years of this! And yet never for one day did he throw a pity party, he worked hard and excelled. I believe he did all this among other factors, because of the strong woman in his life — his support system.
I wonder if some people give thought to the vows they make. I know a couple that broke up because he went bankrupt. No amount of pleading would bring her back. Another left his wife because she could not conceive, another because he lost his sight in an accident, and another because she had failed to lose the baby weight. Last week I heard a woman bragging to her friends about how she would leave her man if he did not stop the incessant farting. She said she had given him an ultimatum. He would have to buy her a car or rent her a shop on Kampala Road for her to stay. Pathetic as that sounds, it is the way many marriages operate today.
On your wedding day, you stand at the altar and clasp hands, exchange vows, kiss, smile and wave at the crowd. When one of you dies, you go back to the same altar, only this time one of you is in a coffin and the other in tears. Such is life. Bitter sweet.
So, to all those who stand by their spouses and family for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, I salute you. To you Aunt Christine, may I be, at least half the wife you and my mother were to your husbands, and may the man that I get married to be like the one that inspired excellence, love and commitment to family and hard work. You truly were a Godsend, rest in peace Uncle Ivan.
