It’s 1am, and I’ve been lying in the dark composing this in my head. I want to write it down now while it’s still fresh. It could be gone in the morning.
You are sleeping quietly beside me, and the dog is having one of those strange animated dreams at my feet. Today was our wedding anniversary. I was determined to remember for once, but you still had to remind me this morning. Twenty seven years. Shit. Where did all that time go? When did we go and get so old?
And what is it that’s so important that it can’t wait until the morning? And why is my face wet with tears? Well, just this. Thanks for being my best friend for all those years. Thanks for loving me like you do, even when I don’t deserve it. Which is most of the time. Thanks for being the best idea I ever had, and the smartest decision I ever made.
Thanks for giving me the gift of our beautiful, clever and funny daughter. Thanks for making our little house on this little island the home I alway wanted. Thanks for enduring all the empty evenings and lonely weekends while I misguidedly went of in pursuit of things that I thought were more important, even though I now see they were not. Thanks for laughing at my stupid jokes. And not laughing at my stupid dreams.
Most of all thanks for the last three months.
You have been extraordinary. Even by your extraordinary standards. You have been my constant companion through every medical emergency, every consultation, every procedure and examination. You have become a walking almanac of schedules and appointments. An encyclopedia of oncology and hematology. You have fielded the phone calls, completed the forms, dealt with the banks and the insurance companies. You’ve administered my drugs and prepared my meals. Hugged me when I’m anxious, held me when I’m scared.
All I can say Is thank you.
And If you will allow me just one more selfish indulgence, it is this.
I’m glad it happened this way around. Even happy. If the dice had fallen differently, and you were the one who had to get cancer, Let’s face it. I’d be hopeless. Completely lost. The words shit, creek and paddle come to mind. Anyway, you’d be a terrible patient. You’d have to sit still and do as your told. Can’t really see that working.
No, it’s much better this way.
Anyway. Sorry there was no card or flowers. I would have organized something nice but, well, I’m not well you see?
I love you. Happy anniversary.
P.S. Sorry about the suit. What can I say? it was 1984.