This day was not even supposed to happen . . .

Jan. 11, 2017. It’s the 55th birthday of my husband of 32 years.

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

But, it has.

So, Happy Birthday, Bill! What a fighter you are. The day Dr. Peltier, up at Vanderbilt in Nashville, told us you had two to five years to live was June 15, 2010. You surpassed that prognosis way back in the summer. Peltier, like most doctors seeing test results like yours, give that prognosis and for most victims it holds true. You are one of the rare ones to outlive the prognosis waged by the monster known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, or ALS/Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis.

In many ways, we are all so thankful. In other ways, not so much.

As I write this I’m raw from watching you struggle only minutes ago to operate your beloved computerized motor wheelchair with the last free movements you have in your last fingers of your right hand. Thousands of dollars of upgrades don’t seemed to have made much of a difference as ALS has weakened you so much more over the last few weeks. I am dumbfounded as to what else to do.

It was enough that it stole your ability to walk four years ago, then all of your voice three years ago, then your ability to take food by mouth two-and-a-half years ago. It was enough a long time ago.

I’m honored and proud to be your wife and stand by your side for ever how long the good Lord decides to keep you here. But, I am also at a peace in knowing that, as a saved believer, you will be fully restored by our Savior’s side when you close your eyes for one last time on this earth.

When will that be? Only the Father knows. I just wish you didn’t have to keep suffering and struggling so much.

ALS is such a horrible disease. Give me cancer or Alzheimer’s any day over ALS. With cancer, there are medicines to at least fight it, even if you ultimately lose the battle. With Alzheimer’s, you simply don’t know what you can’t do anymore. With ALS, your brain is as good as ever and you feel everything you touch, every itch and you remember everything and know everything and you are trapped inside of a body that feels but will not render itself useful any longer. A prisoner of the flesh.

So, today I rejoice in my husband’s birthday because he’s a wonderful man, an honorable man who still worries about others more than himself, is gracious, loving and can still make you smile even if he is silent and almost motionless now.

Happy Birthday, Bill. You are a most precious soul that the Lord blessed me with meeting Jan. 31, 1983 and marrying on Oct. 19, 1984. We’ve been through it all together, good and bad, and by God’s grace we’ve made it and are still making it. As you said after diagnosis, we will learn to keep on keeping on. That still holds true today.

Jan Murray is a staff writer for The Southeast Sun and Daleville Sun-Courier. The opinions of this writer are her own and not the opinion of the paper. She can be reached at (334) 393-2969 or by email at [email protected].