Yesterday, I actually got a WHOLE DAY off work. Tom and my mother-in-law and I went down to Amish country (Holmes County variety) and toured around. Actually, we started up at Rittman Orchards, not far from Doylestown, but they weren’t open on Monday (darn it), so the apples will have to wait until another time, or I’ll just have to settle for Marc’s apples.
It wasn’t altogether a pleasant trip. One of the fun things (not) about having a family member with bipolar illness is dealing with the minor ups and downs. Actually, the minor downs aren’t that bad. But the minor ups aren’t bad enough for hospitalization — they’re just painful. In this case, it meant non-stop talking, which set off the other non-me occupant of the car. After awhile, I put my headphones on and pretended to sleep — when the two of them get going, me trying to stop things is roughly equivalent to standing in front of an avalanche with a snow shovel.
I have been asked why I stick it out. Taken as a whole, there have been a lot more minuses in our life than most people would put up with. But, you know, while I’m not bipolar, I have long thought that it must take considerable patience to put up with me. And he does. And I love him. Not to mention that I stood up in front of my family and his and our friends and the Lord and said “I’ll be there, no matter what”. So I am. And I do. And I will.