Today Teckla declared me king. This was thrilling and heart-breaking. As her memory loss worsens, Teckla and I have a daily routine. I ask her who she is, who I am, and what my name is. We may do this three or four times during the day since, as many know, the memory-loss is often worse in the afternoon.
On a yellow legal pad, I have jotted down the basic facts of her life to add some authority to my answers to her questions. One of the facts is “I am married to Mark Wilson. He is my husband and I am his wife.” Two weeks ago, her memory loss was more severe, so our oral review of the facts went on throughout the day. She would recite, “You are my husband and I am your wife.” I tried to add, “You are my husband, and you are sexy.” She looked steadily at me and with sweet honesty said, “Maybe once.”
The hardest question for Teckla is, “How are we related?” This is, obviously, an important one, especially around bedtime. Often, I list the choices: brother, cousin, father, husband, nephew. I get a little worried when she says “grandma.”
This afternoon after a walk in the cold and a little shopping, I asked her my name, her name and then how we are related. She first said, “Brother?” I said, “No, but I am your brother in Christ.” Then her eyes lit up and she looked up at me and said, “You are the king.” This was not on the list of choices.
She declared me king with such joy and certainty that I knew it was more than just a random guess. Of course, it is always sad that she does not remember we have been married 46 years. But her declaration thrilled my heart. The tenderness and kindness in her eyes revealed that she trusted me to care for her. In her life, I am king. I am sure this is the only royalty I will ever know, but I know of no greater honor or more blessed realm.
Teckla is, of course, the queen of my heart.
