If This Bob Cousy Story About The Love He Shared With His Wife Doesn't Make You Cry Then You Have No Soul
Telegram - The game plan, as he called it, rarely varied. Each morning, he’d awaken first and set things on the kitchen table — her pills, the newspaper, a fiber bar, a banana. Then he’d return to the bedroom and rouse his wife. Often, she balked at leaving the warmth of the covers, so he’d gently coax her. Always, he was gentle.
Once she was up, he’d lead her to the kitchen to read the newspaper. It took two or three hours to get through the pages, because she’d underline each sentence in every story with a black pen. After a while he found comfort in reading between the lines, because it was something they shared.
“She was leading a happy life,” he said. “It was part of the game plan.”
Bob Cousy knows a bit about game plans, and he and his wife, Missie, were always a team. In the early days of their marriage, when the Celtics star was gone for weeks at a time, Missie made her husband a presence in the family home by telling her daughters where he was and what he was doing. Decades later, when Missie slowly succumbed to the ravages of dementia, her husband ensured that the woman he called “my bride” was always by his side, even as her mind wandered where he couldn’t follow.
Holy shit. I wasn’t expecting that on a lazy Tuesday afternoon. Seriously I feel like I just read the Notebook or something. I don’t even know what to say right now. Just snots leaking everywhere. Waterworks city. Cooz just showing what being a real man is all about.