Mornings were usually quiet in the Vollenhoven household, save for the occassional hissing and puffing of the ventilator.  Erika would be up before her husband does, getting ready for the day — though sometimes she knew that he didn’t get a wink of sleep at night. She could see it through those clouded eyes, and sometimes wondered whether he was fearful of going to sleep. She wondered what he saw in those dreams that caused him such fear, but even if she asked, he wouldn’t be able to answer. And thus she only showed support in the way she knew how — by being there for him, by making sure he knew that she would always remain by his side. Today was the same, she would prepare everything for him before starting the day, getting him washed and ready. She was more than happy to fulfil her duties; he had done as much as he can for her, it was only fitting that she does the same. First was making sure he was clean — changing the overnight diaper and emptying the catheter bag, then cleaning up his face with a wet rag, making sure to gently wipe against his eyes and lips. She would lovingly stare into those eyes — once burning with passion, now staring emptily and helplessly into space, dependent on a caretaker to make sure that he was still able to live.

But she didn’t mind. In sickness and in health; till death do us part, isn’t that how their vows go ? His eyes wandered momentarily to meet hers, as if trying to thank her, but she merely shook her head, smiling to him as she kissed his forehead tenderly.

“I will always be by your side, Schatje.”