and I was composing it on the way into work today.
It was stark and honest.
Let’s see if I can remember any of it.
No, that’s not it.
I get up every morning. When I want to just stay in bed and cuddle with him because we DON’T know how much time we have left.
I get in my car every morning. He’s started it for me. He doesn’t have to but he does because he loves me. It’s the little things that make a difference. It’s those little things that make me smile…. like how I get a ‘weather report’ when he comes back in.
*It’s COLD out there today!!
*Freezing rain on your windshield!
*We only got about an inch…weatherman lied*
I sit at work all day worrying about him. Especially when he doesn’t call me by noon thirty. It makes for a less productive day.
I come home at night and I’m exhausted. All we want to do is cuddle on the couch. But I have to cook some supper, clean up dishes, do laundry, vacuum, fix things, shoot cats, clean up after said cats…..the list is endless. So when he goes to bed, I’m up for another couple hours doing housework because he just wants me to hold him. Which I do gladly…desperately…happily.
Phone calls are an interruption on some nights when he’s not feeling well. And sometimes a welcome interruption when he’s not feeling well as they perk him up and make him feel better for a bit. This is not said to make people NOT call….it’s just every night is SO different….and most times he WELCOMES phone calls. His days are so dreary. You can only talk to the animals for so long, you can only take so many naps during the day, watch so much TV…..Visitors are even better, even when he’s not feeling the best…it’s a change of pace.
Supper is a hit and miss thing. Sometimes he’ll eat good. Then sit there with the worst gut ache. And sometimes it’s just an orange. He drinks so much orange juice during the day because he cannot seem to quench his thirst….Something the doctors are going to have to check into.
Then there are the nights.The hardest part of the day. I lay awake watching him. Making sure he’s breathing. Making sure he’s sleeping and not just laying there, pretending, so I don’t worry.
I just want to hold him, soothe him, make love with him. Even with the way his body looks now, I still want him. I want our incredible love life back, Hell, I want our life back. I keep thinking we are going to wake up and this nightmare will be over. We can go back to living.
Then reality hits.
And the crying and the anger and the bargaining start all over again.