A preamble: Five years ago, I tore up my foot playing racketball… Saying thank you to my husband didn’t seem enough for all he had been doing for me, so…
Your illness kicked in when I suffered a tear.
You took on personas, from I don’t know where.
Caring for me with a hot and cold pail,
And tending to me like Florence Nightengale.
Hazel the maid worked for ‘ole “Mr. B.”
Her value to him was no mystery.
She cleaned and shopped, and mopped the floor,
But when YOU wear her apron, you do so much more.
Josephine herself would have been quite proud,
As you rid the bathroom of a drip that was loud.
With gadgets and wrenches, Roto-rooter said,
“You’ll have to pay extra, if you’re going to “help” Fred.”
I’m Captain Kangaroo – and you “Green Jeans.”
I’m surprised that you haven’t planted lima beans…
Finding time to do gardening and pull up some weeds,
While seeing to Maddy and Sophie’s needs.
You’re cooking is improving,
And very seldom do you botch…
And much more than Emeril,
You’ve kicked it up a notch!
Twenty-six athletes, one night you did feed.
Hi-Carb repast is the thing that they need.
Matching school colors, and served with aplomb,
Even you can make Martha Stewart look dumb.
Betty Crocker could take a few lessons from you.
Chocolate mousse in a new blender, because the old one blew.
Sean Haley would be drooling, for heaven’s sake,
If only I’d share with him your banana cake.
So rearrange my kitchen, do what ever you need.
As I am not healing with any great speed.
This injury seems like a gift from above….
Thank you, dear Beulah… My husband…. My love!