“When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody’s help in anyway.
But now these days are gone, I’m not so self assured,
Now I find I’ve changed my mind, I’ve opened up the doors.

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down
And I do appreciate you being ’round.
Help me get my feet back on the ground,
Won’t you please, please help me?”  Beatles, “Help”

In today’s Dear Prudence column we read this question:

Prudie answers by supporting her to move on.  She cites the recent Washington Post article about Robert Melton and his wife who divorced him in order to remarry, while remaining the primary caregiver for her debilitated ex-husband.  In that piece, the wife genuinely wrestles with breaking her vow of “in sickness and in health” to her first husband, and overall, she and the author of the piece say that they are reinterpreting the vow and giving that vow new meaning.

Again, let me first say, I err on the side of compassion.  If either of these women were my friend, I would whole-heartedly want to support them in both honoring their vows to their debilitated spouse but also wanting them to be happy.  Having a spouse who changes physically, mentally and emotionally in ways that are irreversible is not something I have experienced, but through many years in hospice have observed to be gut-wrenching and full of sacrifices.  Change is not easy.  Vows are not easy.

And so I come back to some core questions:

Why do we make vows in the first place?  And why do we make them to mortals who inevitably change or as Shakespeare un-romantically says, “rot?”

How do we balance personal happiness or fulfillment with commitment?

I ask, because if you are in a committed relationship, rest assured that you and he/she will AGE!  At some point, either you or he/she will be caring for the other or being cared for.  In 2011, the National Family Caregivers Association’s Caregiving Statistics, reported that more than 65 million people, 29% of the U.S. population, provided care for a chronically ill or disabled person.  Most of those were spouses caring for spouses.  The average time span of care giving is 5 plus years.

At some point, we may all look at our spouses and think, “This is not the guy or gal I married!”  (and of course vice versa!)  What then?  Since I started with the Beatles, might as well end there…

“Will you still need me?  Will you still feed me, when I’m 64 (or 74 or 84 or 94!?”