As I sat by her side on the thick and mildly uncomfortable bed, she couldn’t help but feel relieved – I could see it her face. The fear and pain had left as quickly as it set in, ravaging her and leaving my wife, my love, alone to rot.

She wouldn’t have to go through this alone, I was here, as I have been yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before that. Her body had become noticeably more relaxed. Her muscles no longer bulged outward, creating fascinating but unnatural patterns on the sterile linen she was protected by.

It had been seven months to the day when I first found out, and now that the day was finally here, we were both feeling relieved and scared. One chapter would be ending, and a brand new one beginning.

I would have given my life for my love. She knew it, but she also was willing to give hers not only to me, but for me, and for our son.

The sun went down, and with it, my hopes for another day here in this depressing room. They came in about seven thirty in the evening, and it began.

She reached for my hand, and I groped for hers. The first injection was given, and with it, all color left her face. She stared at me intently, and whispered, “I love you” to me, squeezing it with the crushing intensity of a thousand days of frustration, anger, and disappointment.

“I love you too.”

With that, a second injection was given. I could tell she no longer felt my hand, but was determined to hang on as long as possible. Her grip loosened, her eyes were glazed. The relaxation she was experiencing was not natural, not human, though our stare told everyone we were experiencing real human emotions, real human life events, even though we could never find the words to express it.

Within seconds, she rolled her head, breaking our last communication channel. She had just told me goodbye, and as the tears swelled in my eyes, a perfect high pitched sound permeated the room, causing the bittersweet tears to roll and crash on my unkempt chin.

“Congratulations, daddy.”



Joined January 2008

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