At the hospital, as I held his hand, I realized the freedom I wanted wasn’t outside our marriage—it was inside the peace we had built together. Charles survived, but the experience transformed me. Whatever time we have left, I choose to spend it seeing him clearly, appreciating his kindness, and valuing the quiet devotion that supported our life for fifty years. Love, I finally understand, is not confinement—it is attention, patience, and a thousand gentle moments that deserve to be seen.
