Usually I post a blog on Sundays with a routine, mundane, “what boots did I wear during the past week” post. But I have breaking news. I interrupt the pattern of this blog to exclaim,

CONGRATULATIONS! to a reader of this blog who…

…wrote me the following message which brought tears of joy to me:

Dear BHD, I have been with my lady for over 18 years. I had a brush with death after a surgery and came to realize: I only got this one life with the love of my life. I read of the tenderness of your love for your husband and the sweetness of knowing that you are deeply loved. I asked her to marry me and she said yes. I just had to share that with you. Your blog is a very bright spot in my life right now. God bless you both. Still praying for your husband’s health. Take care.

I have often said, I have no idea how my blog or website influences others. After all, as it says in the title of “BHD’s Musings,” I am an average married gay biker in the ‘burbs.” I really mean that… average… no better, no worse, than anyone else.

However, in the writings about my life, I have been describing the challenges that my spouse has been having with unrelenting chronic infections. The infections are caused by three different bacteria, each transmitted by one tick bite. The infections cause severe pain, fatigue, and effects on the brain that cause mood swings, occasional aphasia, and heightened sensitivity to light and odors.

I love my spouse. No doubt about it. Without question or hesitation, I provide care. I won’t go into detail in this post about the care, but suffice it to say, it is complex and difficult.

My love for my spouse extends to having big shoulders, to accept that sometimes his diseases “talk” and say things that he does not mean. I am a sensitive man. I don’t take what the diseases cause him to say when he is hurting that well. It hurts. But I know it is not my husband saying those things. It is those awful organisms and the toxins they produce that affect the brain and the centers that control emotion and inhibition.

I am human. I have times of doubt, fear, anger, and sorrow. I resent tremendously how these diseases have robbed me of the man who once rode pillion with me for tens of thousands of miles on my Harley. I am furious that my spouse has to endure such pain and misery. I am “less than happy” that I have had to adjust my life to revolve around providing treatment for diseases, forsaking all else — fun, socializing, motorcycle riding.

However, I have three things that keep me properly focused: my brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, cousins, and “senior pals” who love me and care about me; my deep and abiding faith where I know for certain that my spouse will overcome this persistent illness; and love — the love I hold in my heart for my man, and what I know to be the love he holds in his heart for me. It’s there. I see it. I feel it. Each time I push IV antibiotics into him and he knows how much I hate needles — he looks at me with such a sweet and tender expression — the love in his eyes and his touch is felt in my heart.

I celebrate the small wins … like yesterday when he felt well enough that we sat by the pond that I built for him on a pleasant afternoon, just holding hands. Or the day before when he showed me how the dahlias that he grew from seed in the greenhouse that I built for him were flowering in our front garden. Even though he could not plant the plants this year, he was very happy to see the results.

Every day, I have choices. My bike cop buddy called me yesterday morning and said, “I’m going out for a ride on my new Harley. Want to join me?” Certainly the desire that I have to go riding for pleasure with a buddy was there. I was briefly torn between the urge to get away, go have fun, take a break — and my personal desire to show the one who means the world to me how much I love him. So once again, I declined to go riding, and instead, got more personal joy from spending the afternoon with my spouse on what we call a “good day.” His symptoms were not as bad as other days, so we take advantage of the good days when they come.

I don’t describe this to demonstrate that I am a martyr or a saint. I say this only to describe what went into my new-found friend’s message posted above — that deep bonds of love overcome other temptations for brief happiness. What makes me happy is when my husband is comfortable, at peace, and “relatively” happy. If you could see the contentment in both of our eyes yesterday as we sat, holding hands, not saying a word, listening to the gentle splashing of water down the waterfall in our pond — you would know what I have been trying to describe in posts throughout this blog:

Show those how you love them… because… life is short.

Sincere and utmost congratulations to my friend. I genuinely wish that her marriage is happy, joyful, and a demonstration of the loving bonds between her and her mate equally as they are for my husband and me.