I’m sorry I couldn’t see it at first. ”
Life with Caroline isn’t always easy. But it’s real and honest and full of love. She’s taught me that strength comes in many forms, that independence isn’t about doing everything alone, and that vulnerability is just another word for trust.
Sometimes I think about that first afternoon at the cafe, about how close I came to walking away. My own prejudices almost cost me the best thing that ever happened to me. Margaret likes to take credit. “I knew you two would be perfect together.
”
“You also lied about the wheelchair. ”
“Details. Would you have gone if I’d told you? ”
Honestly?
I don’t know. But Caroline was right that first day. She didn’t need pity. She just needed honesty.
And once I got past my own assumptions, I found someone extraordinary. These days, when people ask about being married to someone who uses a wheelchair, I tell them the truth. It’s part of our life, but not our whole life. We laugh.
We argue about dishes. We plan trips and dream about the future. We’re just two people who found each other and chose to build a life together.
That is more than enough.