After Dawn and I got back together and she started to believe that I wasn’t going to run away. Run away, like so many others throughout her life; she started calling me her “Knight in shining armor”. I would always tell her; no, I am your knight in tattered armor.
She would always insist that to her, my armor SHINED with the glory of the morning sun.
One day when we had that little verbal joust, I told her the armor is truly tattered. But, it does glow with the glory of a blazing red Dawn. She looked at me, under standing that I had emphasized the double entendre with her name, the morning and her red hair. She did not catch the deeper meaning.
I smiled and told her, it is your scrupulous maintenance of my tattered armor each night, that allows me to protect again, when that gorgeous ball of red rises each morning.
She looked at me again with a slow realization on her face.
Her eyes welled up. She dashed into my arms and cried. She finally, truly understood we were a team. We each had a role. My role was to beat back dragons. My role was to keep her safe and protected; give her the room she needed to heal and grow. Her role was to be the diplomat / scholar and to mend my armor; physical, mental and spiritual. She knew in that moment, we were one. She knew in that moment, that I might not be able to save her, but I would fight until her last breath or mine.
She cried and so did I. My armor never shined as much as it did that day and every day after.
It turned out to be until her last breath. But I still fight. So perhaps, it will be to my last breath too.