Forever
Fin.
With the passage of time, two people who are truly in love almost become the same person. Mary thinks about this as she reminisces on her past with her Luke. What were once two people, with very different thoughts, goals, and values, slowly merge into one indecipherable being. Thoughts become only of each other, goals about their future together, and values mirror what is best for their family. It happens slowly, they may not even realize it is happening. But it does. And then one day it’s over.
She sits beside his death bed, squeezing his hand and clutching a rosary to her chest. Tears flowing from her eyes for so long she can hardly notice their presence anymore. She looks down at the worn-out, leather-like face of the man she loves—the man she’s devoted her life to. This is a man who is as much a part of her as her hands, her legs, her feet. He is the man she doesn’t know what it’s like to spend a day apart from, because she’s never had to. And now she has to spend the rest of her life without him; her person.
They were supposed to be together forever, but they just don’t make forever’s like they used to. After a lifetime of him being the strong one; the one that helped her run away from her Roman Catholic parents, who never accepted her marriage to a protestant boy, and then later in life, through the loss of their first child. Now she was his lifeline. She had watched his skin turn from the vibrant health of his youth, to its current wrinkling pallor. She was by his side as his health deteriorated. First he developed diabetes, and then patches of cancer began popping up like blips in the radar on his MRIs, and finally the Alzheimer’s took over. One moment they still felt young and in love, regardless of what their reflections told them, and then there was that terrible day in the kitchen.
“Who are you lady and what are you doing in my house?”
That hurt most of all; a love that was so mutual becoming irrevocably one-sided in the blink of an eye. But she knew it was her turn to take care of him, even if he thought she was the nurse, at least she was something to him. That was infinitely better than being an intruder in his house.
He hasn’t woken up in four days. He would never know that she had been by his side each and every minute; his nurse, his wife, his partner. It pained her to know he would die not knowing how much she loved him. But as the life fades from his body she’s almost certain she feels his hand squeeze hers in return. A sad smile creeps across her lips, as a fresh set of tears stream down her face. This is it, he’s really gone. And she feels whatever tethers them together, snap.
She sits beside his death bed, squeezing his hand and clutching a rosary to her chest. Tears flowing from her eyes for so long she can hardly notice their presence anymore. She looks down at the worn-out, leather-like face of the man she loves—the man she’s devoted her life to. This is a man who is as much a part of her as her hands, her legs, her feet. He is the man she doesn’t know what it’s like to spend a day apart from, because she’s never had to. And now she has to spend the rest of her life without him; her person.
They were supposed to be together forever, but they just don’t make forever’s like they used to. After a lifetime of him being the strong one; the one that helped her run away from her Roman Catholic parents, who never accepted her marriage to a protestant boy, and then later in life, through the loss of their first child. Now she was his lifeline. She had watched his skin turn from the vibrant health of his youth, to its current wrinkling pallor. She was by his side as his health deteriorated. First he developed diabetes, and then patches of cancer began popping up like blips in the radar on his MRIs, and finally the Alzheimer’s took over. One moment they still felt young and in love, regardless of what their reflections told them, and then there was that terrible day in the kitchen.
“Who are you lady and what are you doing in my house?”
That hurt most of all; a love that was so mutual becoming irrevocably one-sided in the blink of an eye. But she knew it was her turn to take care of him, even if he thought she was the nurse, at least she was something to him. That was infinitely better than being an intruder in his house.
He hasn’t woken up in four days. He would never know that she had been by his side each and every minute; his nurse, his wife, his partner. It pained her to know he would die not knowing how much she loved him. But as the life fades from his body she’s almost certain she feels his hand squeeze hers in return. A sad smile creeps across her lips, as a fresh set of tears stream down her face. This is it, he’s really gone. And she feels whatever tethers them together, snap.