A Love Letter To My Husband, Kids And Those With Chronic Illness

To celebrate Valentine’s Day, we asked Patch readers to write a love letter to that special someone and let us deliver it. This is Dianna Hampton-Dowson’s love letter to her husband, children and “everyone out there who themselves suffer from chronic illness or is loving someone who suffers from chronic illness.”

“Chronic illness is a thief. Life is full of all of these amazing little moments that add up to the sum of your life; your story! Some of these moments are good, some bad, and some neither good nor bad, but rather somewhere in between. With chronic illness, you could be right in the middle of a good moment, say an interesting conversation with someone. And while you're listening and replying, inside you're in a state of panic, trying desperately to stay tuned in because a symptom of your illness suddenly started screaming for attention. So you have to tactfully manage to pretend this isn't happening or excuse yourself from the situation you were enjoying before your illness took over. You see? A moment stolen. This could happen at anytime -- in the middle of a graduation, a job interview, a concert you waited months to attend, a big presentation or even your wedding day. That's the thing about chronic illness: It's an unpredictable, unfair, cruel thief. Can you beat chronic illness at its own game though?

When my husband and I met in college, more than 15 years ago, we had no reason to think chronic illness would become part of our story together, but it has. Instead of running for the door, however, like I supposed he could have, and assume others have, he stood by me. He believed me, when others did not. He kept me grounded, when my symptoms took over. He held on with steadfast patience (most of the time), when I was unreasonably unpleasant to be around. He took on more, when I couldn't pull my own weight. He reminded me to be grateful, when I was having a low symptom day. He appreciated how much effort it took just to get through a normal day, when my symptoms were bad and he reminded me of my strengths, when often I felt all I could own were my weaknesses. He didn't do this perfectly; perfection is impossible, especially under these circumstances, but he's taken on my illness as if it were just one small part of me. He doesn't let me believe this illness is drowning me, even though it does often feel like it is.

While I worry that I sometimes forget to say it out loud, I am unbelievably thankful to my husband and children. My chronic illness affects their lives almost as much as it affects mine. My children have adapted to my limits because of my chronic illness -- really it's the only ‘me’ they have ever known.

They are old enough to know I am different from other mothers. The love they have given to me and shown me, even when I am not at my best is the greatest gift I have ever known. To be loved when you are supermom is precious, but to be loved when you just cannot be ‘super’ can literally renew your faith in the world. When I feel like a failure because my symptoms prevent me from doing something the kids would like to do when they would like to do it, that husband of mine kindly reminds me of all the things I do for them and that tomorrow is another day.

I guess what I am saying is that while chronic illness is a thief, the love my husband and two amazing children have given to me, not despite my illness but because they love me as a whole, has helped me feel those losses are in some way recovered.

My normal might be different from yours. An inside view of our story might not seem like a typical love story that ends happily-ever-after. But to more than 117 million Americans who suffer from chronic illness, this story may be rather familiar.

To my husband: I hope I thank you enough. I hope you know how very much I love you and how your love has made my life, regardless of circumstance, better. To my children: Thank you for loving me unconditionally. Your love has been the light I could focus my gaze upon on my darkest, most difficult days.

To chronic illness: You may succeed in stealing my moments, but I will recover them, perhaps imperfectly and with more effort than others will need to put in, but I will recover them and live the best life I can despite your unending presence in my life because you can't steal the love. The love is all mine.”

--Dianna Hampton-Dowson

See all Patch love letters here.

For next month's Love In A Small Town feature, we want to know: What place in town will always be a reminder of love for you? Whether it's the park where you had your first kiss or the restaurant where he proposed, email your story to locallove@patch.com for the chance to be featured. Get more details here.