It is nothing new that I write stories that feature a strong heroine. In my own life, I am a strong woman–very strong. Since my husband’s accident, I’ve also taken over many of “his” jobs. That he realizes this is strange and good–not that he’s necessarily happy about all of it.
Protector. I first think of my husband as the one who defeats the intruder, but now it is my turn. There are some perks. He bought me two awesomely sweet pistols (I’ve wanted them since I first saw a picture!), and a scary good shotgun. I’ll never pretend to be Dirty Harry or a maniac leaping out with guns in both hands. More like a mama bear. With this responsibility of new firearms also comes learning about them, stopping capabilities, safety issues, and refining my shooting techniques. Please, good weather, I want to do some target practice on our range.
Caretaker. Instead of sharing the ranch and household chores, I’m pretty much it. If it breaks, I fix it (or hire someone). If it eats, I feed it. If it is dirty, I clean it. This role has been shifted to me not so much from his accident but his work. His limited physical ability makes him tire faster and by the time he gets home, he’s spent. I do give him credit for trying so hard, and cooking some meals.
What I’m doing is nothing new to many women–they do it 24/7 with no relief. I’m in total awe of them. I accept what I’m given, knowing I’m getting stronger physically and emotionally. I’m loving what I can now bring to my heroines, and a hero who depends on his woman to rescue him.