Some time ago I got a phonecall from my husband while he was at work. Bad phonecall. I started packing for both of us, wondering if we'd need black clothes.

And suddenly I thought - so... this is being his wife. This is what we signed up for. For better or for worse. I packed for him and met him under the rain and squeezed his hand through a funeral, and kissed him and held him and told him it was alright to hurt.

He kept telling me "but I need to be strong for X and X person."

"You're not with them now. You're with me."

And it was such an immense privilege to be the one he was safe with. To be the place where he could hurt and crack and be vulnerable. He can come here any time he needs - I'm not going anywhere.

I am grateful for every effort I made to be his soft place to land. It really pays off.