My husband Frank fractured the metatarsal bone in his foot playing tennis. He wore a stiff knee-high boot for ten weeks, which made it very difficult to get around. When the boot came off he had to do physical therapy with an exercise band for a long time and his foot was sore and sensitive for months.
Frank was 75, and after much thought he stopped playing tennis. The bone was a weak link, and he didn’t want to re-injure it. He might get carried away running down a ball and do just that. So we began to do things together, which before the injury only happened on Sundays because all he did on the other days was play tennis. We started going to movies, and after showing zero interest in them before, he now has a long list of movies he wants to see, old ones and new ones. He also made a kite, like the ones he made as a boy, and in good weather we go to a bayland field and he flies his kite while I read or walk around the field. We go for walks, which we never used to do, and he even goes to the mall with me on the rare occasion. Two or three afternoons a week we go to Starbucks for coffee.
I’m really enjoying our outings. I think Frank is too. His list of must-see movies gets longer. And his tastes are changing. He used to only tolerate guy movies, and I never thought it possible that he would even go to see a musical, much less enjoy one. But he loved Into the Woods. I love Meryl Streep, and now Frank does too. He has to see every Meryl Streep movie there is. Who is this man? Whoever he is, I’m enjoying our new life together. I’ll just come right out and admit it: I’m glad Frank fractured his metatarsal. Just don’t tell him I said that.