Love, sandwiches and getting better

Sometimes I dare to think that maybe, just maybe, I'm getting a little bit better. It's the beginning of the fourth week in school, and so far I'm not behind in my work. I manage to tag along with the rest, and for now, I can picture myself managing full time this whole semester. I still have an easy option of going down to 75% in February if doesn't work out, but it would be great if I could do this, it really would. We'll see.

We've kept strict to the idea that going to school is all I'm supposed to be doing. Today, Mistress would really have needed to stay at her job past her usual hours because she was heading up a workshop with foreign visitors, and it would have been polite and proper to see them off before heading home. My father was supposed to come and have pizza with me and little S, but he cancelled on us in the last minute, and noone else was available. And it really only was a matter of an hour or so, of her coming home maybe six o'clock instead of five.

But she didn't. When we couldn't get anyone to keep me company, she left at her usual time and came home to help me, so that I wouldn't have to deal with making dinner and taking care of little S by myself for an hour.

I love her. I love her so much. And I'm so grateful not to be expected to do things that is hard on me. To be allowed to rest for a while, to for once live in a way that isn't to difficult for me, or wears me down.

But the best thing isn't when I get to rest, or don't have to do something that would make me tired. The best is the moments when I have a little bit more energy than expected, when my resources for once is greater than the demands I face, and I can go a little beyond what she expects. That is the best.

This morning I helped make her a sandwich to eat on the bus, because she was running late, and later she texted me and thanked me, saying that not only was I making her life richer, I was also helping her out and making it possible for her to hold an advanced job position in a different city and still have family. I almost cried. I so very much want to be an asset to her, something that makes her life brighter and better, and I'm so often afraid that I'm not.

I wish I could make her a thousand sandwiches. What I can do is obeying her, and loving her, and do every thing in my power to get better and healthier, and do what I need to do to stay healthy. I know she much prefers the healthy, happy me, even when that means that I'm in the couch while she does everything else, than me working to hard and getting depressed. But I long for the day when I have energy to spare - because then I'm going to spend it all on her.