When I met Mr. Moser, he was just released from the hospital and needed to convalesce in a personal care home. I was registered with the hospital, so he was sent to my house. He fell in love with me and my daughters, and we eventually married. He was a little older than I but in good mental and physical health. He had been a music teacher, very active in his community, and was a godly man with a wonderful sense of humor. There was a lot of laughter in our home.

Throughout our years together, he had bouts of illnesses due to age. One of those times was when his blood flow in his foot wasn't getting to his middle toe, for some reason. He had check-ups often and even visiting nurses came to our home a couple of times. I thought he had bruised his toe and had the nurse look at it. After about a week, my married daughter stopped by for a visit. She hadn't seen his toe before and was quite alarmed. I hadn't thought it was anything but a bruise, and neither had the nurse.

I decided to take him to the doctor to be on the safe side. The doctor said the blood wasn't reaching that toe and it was going into gangrene. I was in shock to say the least. We quickly got him into the hospital for surgery. The surgeon said he did fine and nothing else was affected and he would be taking the bandage off to check it in a few days. I said I wanted to be there when he did.

I remember rushing to the hospital that morning. I was so worried that Bob would be upset. I rehearsed what all I could say to make him feel better, like..."Well it isn't the big or little toe, so your balance should be okay, Bob".
Or... "It's a good thing we got it in time, so there wasn't anymore damage".

I had several well meaning and comforting things to say running through my mind as I met the doctor in the hallway. When we walked into the room, Bob was waiting for us with that grin and twinkle and his usual greetings and small talk.

While the doctor slowly unwrapped the bandage, I was watching Bob's face as I was glancing at his foot. His expression didn't change. It really DIDN'T look bad, just a little red where the toe used to be, but no big separation.

 I said, "That looks really good, doesn't it doctor"? He said it looked very good. I prattled on with all my "comfort". Finally, I said, "Well, what do you think, Bob"?

He said, "Yes, it looks okay, and I don't think I'll even miss it".
"Besides, I had too many toes anyway"!

Ya gotta love 'em!