Our Brighter Without
The day I found out I had cirrhosis, my whole world tilted. I was scared, ashamed, and certain I’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed. But in the middle of that hospital room, one thing never wavered: Gary. He sat in a chair next to my bed, hand wrapped around mine, and tears spilled down his cheeks. Even in that moment, I could tell that these were not tears of defeat, but tears of determination. Tears that said: This isn’t how our story ends.
From that day forward, he showed up in ways I didn’t even know I needed. He poured every drop of alcohol down our kitchen sink before I even got home from the hospital. He came to every medical appointment with me (from the terrifying liver transplant consults to the not-so-bad blood draws). He drove me to support groups and waited outside.
He became my personal chef, cooking up low-sodium, no-sugar meals (which, let’s be honest, didn’t taste amazing but my liver was grateful and so was I!)
He even gave up alcohol himself, no hesitation, no complaints. Just, ‘We’re in this together.’ And we were. And we are. Which is when I started to realize something I hadn’t before: recovery isn’t a solo act.
Yes, I had to make the choice to break the cycle. I had to dig into the hard, messy, internal work. But Gary made the path gentle for me. What looked like an impossible mountain I had to climb became a trail I could crawl along, even on the days I couldn’t stand.
Every action he took was a love letter written without words.
So many of our happiest memories involved a glass of something. Secret-menu drinks at Disneyland, champagne on holidays, and even splitting a bottle at a local vineyard just because we wanted to watch the sunset. Alcohol was always there, threaded in our good times. Which made its absence feel uncomfortable at first. Yet Gary never made me feel like we’d lost our fun. He reminded me that joy wasn’t in a bottle, it was in us.
On our 25th wedding anniversary, we toasted with sparkling water and iced tea. I looked across at my person as we “cheered” to us, and realized it didn’t matter that there wasn’t champagne inside the glasses. The sparkling water tasted like a life together worth celebrating. One of recovery, partnership, and love in its truest form.
Gary, you've made the impossible possible - and brighter. Cheers to you, my love.