Free A Vow to Cherish by Deborah Raney

the sun, to be replaced with tiny buds of hope.
    That such profound sorrow could be replaced by such great joy was a mystery he would never truly comprehend. But perhaps one could not feel happiness with such depth if one had not first known the fathoms of anguish.
    The night Jana Beth’s first lusty cries filled the delivery room, and the doctor placed the baby, whole and perfect, on Ellen’s belly, John watched the last remnant of her grief vanish. It was as though Ellen herself was the one newly born—hope giving full bloom to joy. Though she confided to John that she would never truly understand why Catherine had been taken from them, Ellen acknowledged that Jana’s birth had restored her faith in the God to whom she had entrusted her life. And now she ran confidently back into His arms.
    Shortly after Jana’s birth, John had applied for a position as Calypso’s elementary school principal. It was a coveted position, and he had little hope of even being considered for the job. To their amazement, he was offered the job with only one stipulation—that he take a few courses at the university to comply with the qualifications. Ellen and John were elated. Not only would he have a job in the suburbs, but he would also have financial assistance in working toward the degree he had planned to get anyway. And the new salary would boost the meager bank account they had struggled with since Ellen quit teaching to be home with Jana.
    They’d borrowed three thousand dollars from Howard and MaryEllen to put a down payment on a little house three blocks from Oscar and Hattie’s. The house needed painting inside and out, and the yard was a tangle of weeds, but it was structurally sound and, more importantly, it was theirs. They spent their weekends raking and seeding the lawn, and by the time school started, the grass was green and lush and the backyard had been enclosed with a rough board fence. The inside of the house could wait until winter.
    Now as their precious little girl toddled across their hearts, another little life waited to make entrance into their world.
    Brant Allen Brighton was born in January, and much to their surprise, Kyle Andrew had followed along only fourteen months later.
    Now, as John turned onto Oaklawn and their house came into view, his mind churned with thoughts of what the future might hold for them. He tried to will the awful visions away, but it was a physical battle. He touched the cloth of his shirt, shocked to realize that he was drenched in sweat. His breath came in short gasps. What would they do? What would he do without Ellen?
    He turned to watch her. She was still asleep, slack-mouthed beside him. He was unable to fathom that inside the beautiful head that lay on his shoulder each night—the head he cradled so tenderly—a vile thing was eating away at her brain. It was incomprehensible. It had to be a bad dream. Surely he would wake up, and they would laugh together about it as they had often laughed about each other’s silly dreams.
    As he pulled into their driveway, Ellen instinctively woke up. Without speaking, they carried the paraphernalia of the day’s trip into the kitchen. Ellen puttered around the house, hanging up jackets and putting receipts in the desk drawer. She went to the sink and began washing the few dishes left there from breakfast. John watched her perform these mundane chores with new eyes. How long would she be able to do these simple, homely things?
    Like a tidal wave, an overwhelming love and tenderness welled within him for this woman—his wife. He went to her as she stood at the sink and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. Her hair was disheveled from sleeping in the car, and her skin was damp from the steam of the dishwater. She turned to him, put her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his chest, uttering two simple words: “Tell me.”
    John fought to control his emotions. “It…it’s Alzheimer’s, Ellen. At