There I was, all alone, with the news of Abbe’s syndrome thrown on me. I would have to tell my wife shortly. Should I ring her straight away or wait till she comes in to take over? It was going to break her, I knew that.
The last two weeks we’ve spent so much time crying and for some reason I’ve taken on the part of the strong one. He who holds and comforts. Who says, “It’ll be all right” when she loses faith. And for some reason I’ve managed. I've become stronger. As if it were a task designed for me, where I absolutely must not fail. Maybe that’s how I function – focusing with the task at hand. Or it might be the way we work together, as a couple. When one stumbles, the other steps in to support.
I hope so.