The weather in Chicago has been beautiful as Fall approaches.  I love the colors this time of the year with the pops of bright yellow, orange, and red dotting the landscape.  And, more than anything, I love the smell of burning leaves, hay rides, and apple cider.

When our daughters were young, I would take them on mother/daughter camping weekends in the Fall.   We have quite a few harrowing stories of escape from wild animals.  The most dramatic story is the one where white rapids were whirling through the middle of the campground nearly washing our tent and all belongings away in the aftermath of a downpour.

Recently, I was sharing these memories with my husband with the hope that I might inspire him to go camping with me.  Last Sunday after church, he said, “Why don’t we stop at Cabela’s and have a look around?”   Mind you, I still have all of our original camping gear, and I’m thinking a really cheap fun weekend.  I did not want to discourage him.

Cabelas’ is a manly store.  One can’t help but walk down the aisles and grunt several times.  I’ve never seen so many fishing poles, lures, and flies in all my life.  Add hunting rifles, camouflage, and deer urine, and you have a weekend of sheer manly delight.  However, my dear husband cringed when he saw a video in the store of a woman shooting a deer with a bow and arrow.  He has a soft spot for animals and feeds our resident chipmunk in the backyard.

As we were standing by the camping gear, I whispered, “Honey, what’s better than zippering two sleeping bags together and snuggling?”  His response, “A nice warm snuggle in our bed at home.”    I reminded him, “We have an air mattress to make the tent more comfortable, and I’m willing to slave over the Coleman stove to make you chili and cornbread for dinner, and eggs and pancakes in the morning!”

We left Cabela’s with a bag of maple nut goodies.

I’m still waiting for a response to my romantic weekend camping idea.

Part of marriage includes taking care of each other’s parents.   Ten years ago it was my husband’s turn to help me through the illness of my mother and her subsequent death.  This year has been my turn to help my husband.

The past thirty days have been a whirlwind of emotional and physical stress, as we’ve been dealing with the serious illness of my mother-in-law.  My husband spent two weeks away from home taking care of his mom, and readily admits to not having a nurturing/caring/nursing bone in his body.  During an evening conversation with me, he asked, “How do women do this so naturally? I’m grateful I have you to help me.”

We spent Labor Day weekend doing a bedroom makeover for mom to make sure she would be in the cleanest, allergen-free environment that would keep her COPD in check.    This meant tearing up carpet, washing and painting walls, and cleaning closets.   Sore muscles and exhaustion settled in by Monday, as we were encouraging each other toward completing a room that was “almost” done.  We did a reveal, and mom was thrilled with her new room.  I’m praying it will provide clean breathing comfort for a time, and we can find a sense of peace with her continuing to live seven hours away.

My husband has two brothers and no sisters.  Getting them to think like women when it comes to the care of their mother is foreign territory.  Simple things such as asking her if she needs her toenails and fingernails cut, a haircut, women’s toiletries or other personal items - these words and descriptions are not in a man’s mental or visual vocabulary. 

There are other things I observe as a woman.  I notice when mom is short of breath, exhausted, and experiencing other physical symptoms.  I notice when she leaves her evening medication on the table and forgets to take it.  I notice a marked difference in her short-term memory. 

I need to be my husband’s second set of eyes and ears, and provide patience and guidance as he deals with his mother’s illness.  We are on a very difficult road together.  However, I am willing to do what it takes to make his mother feel comfortable and loved - even if it means living with us in the future.

It’s my turn to walk the path of unconditionally loving my husband and his mother. 

I know it’s what God wants me to do.