Doing all right just about covers it. It’s not like before and I have no idea when it will be again. Or even if it will be ever again. Sometimes I don’t see how it can be, not after what happened. I’m not really sure I want it to be, either.
Sometimes I wonder which is better, to know in advance and have time for goodbyes, or just to be struck down, sudden and immediate and no warning whatsoever. Perhaps it depends which part you play. The knowledge of what was to come over the next three months weighed heavy on him. As three stretched to four and five and almost six, rather than a blessing of extra time, it became a trial to be endured. He still knew, however much longer there might be, that it would kill him in the end.
I never imagined I’d be glad when he finally went, but I was. Each morning I woke with my first thoughts turning to ‘Today?’ I’d lay there, breathing as quietly as I could, and listen for sounds coming from his bed. If I heard rhythmic snores sometimes I’d prop myself up on an elbow and watch him sleep. That was the only time his face didn’t show pain.
For a while afterwards I still woke and listened for sounds of him. I don’t now but sometimes the quiet is so loud I have to flick the radio on. It’s still tuned to his Radio 4 but I don’t think I can retune it yet.
I have so much time, now. I don’t know what I used to do before but it must have been something. People suggest good works or helping a charity but I think that is for the future. I might have to explain why to someone and I prefer people who already know the why. I’ve started to read some of his books which does help to pass the time. Only the ones I can recall him reading though, so I know my hands are where his once were.
But I eat and I sleep and see my sister and read and watch some TV shows I can’t recall the name of right now. It might be just getting by but I think I’m doing all right, considering.
Sometimes I wonder which is better, to know in advance and have time for goodbyes, or just to be struck down, sudden and immediate and no warning whatsoever. Perhaps it depends which part you play. The knowledge of what was to come over the next three months weighed heavy on him. As three stretched to four and five and almost six, rather than a blessing of extra time, it became a trial to be endured. He still knew, however much longer there might be, that it would kill him in the end.
I never imagined I’d be glad when he finally went, but I was. Each morning I woke with my first thoughts turning to ‘Today?’ I’d lay there, breathing as quietly as I could, and listen for sounds coming from his bed. If I heard rhythmic snores sometimes I’d prop myself up on an elbow and watch him sleep. That was the only time his face didn’t show pain.
For a while afterwards I still woke and listened for sounds of him. I don’t now but sometimes the quiet is so loud I have to flick the radio on. It’s still tuned to his Radio 4 but I don’t think I can retune it yet.
I have so much time, now. I don’t know what I used to do before but it must have been something. People suggest good works or helping a charity but I think that is for the future. I might have to explain why to someone and I prefer people who already know the why. I’ve started to read some of his books which does help to pass the time. Only the ones I can recall him reading though, so I know my hands are where his once were.
But I eat and I sleep and see my sister and read and watch some TV shows I can’t recall the name of right now. It might be just getting by but I think I’m doing all right, considering.
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