Would it surprise you to hear me confess that I am a nurturer? If you’ve been reading my blogs very long, probably not. I nourish hearts, minds and bodies. OC likes my coddling. He enjoys being cooked for, waited on and fussed over. (Note: I said he enjoys it, not he expects it.)
Right now my eyes feel as though they had been deep-fried and rolled in sand. My hair hurts. Slimy yellow stuff expels from my lungs when I cough. My nose is running, and OC says I may have a slight fever.
So, what happens when the nurturer gets sick? Well, much to my delight and joy, I find the nurturer is nurtured. I was told not to prepare dinner last night — however I’d already prepared a roast for the oven so I just popped it in and let OC take it from there when he got home. After dinner I was cuddled on the couch, then later tucked into bed and cuddled there, too — despite my tossing and turning. During the early hours of the a.m., after I’d trashed the bed and tossed all the covers on the floor, OC patiently got up, put the bed back together and wrapped me in a heavy fleece blanket. (It is 70F in here and I am shivering.)
My body feels pretty bad, but my heart feels grand.