Thursday, July 25, 2013

No guest post, no eloquent Danish writer ...

This one is just me.

I watch him sleep, and I stroke the soft skin of his abdomen and think about what lies festering beneath the surface, and wonder - who invited this monster into our home, our bed?

I subtract 1978 from 2013 and wonder where those years went.  Thirty five of them. I should know him better.  It should feel like a long time.

It doesn't.

I fall asleep beside him, wake gripped with a nameless terror.  Childhood phantoms crowd close, closer, as though my husband's presence is the only thing keeping them at bay.

I try not to borrow trouble from tomorrow, today he is here, he is still here, and we have no idea, really, how bad the cancer is, if it has spread anywhere, there is no reason to panic, to start planning how I'll live without him.

It's easier in the daytime, when he's there winking at me, when I'm driving him to work.  Except there are shadows even there - he's in pain, he's so tired.  He sleeps like someone wounded, and I will myself to stop thinking, to concentrate on breath.  Inhale, exhale.  He is still here.

Surgery tomorrow morning at 7:40 a.m.

Prayers coveted.

2 comments:

joyce harback said...

Breathing them with you. One day at a time. One step at a time. One breath at a time.

"I know who goes before me, I know who stands behind: the God of Angel Armies is always by my side. The one who reigns forever, he is a friend of mine."

Carolyn said...

"THIS is the day"...the only day we can choose to live in..."the Lord has made." Even in this day...we will rejoice - not in what sorrows us - but in the FACT that HE is WITH us in this day.
I know this is true, helpful, strengthening, and it is a HUGE learning curve! But, HE is with all of you. Praying!!!