We push forward with the wedding.
Thanksgiving was a wonderful time, and both Bill and I are happy that we took the chance and went. We have been home for a while now, frantically planning the for wedding. After the wedding, we hope to honeymoon in Egypt, which is the last place that Bill wants to see. Here he makes jokes about Stargate and King Tut. I find that I am still learning things about him, even as I believe there is nothing left to learn. We have known each other for eight years, after all! For instance, I had no idea he was so well-versed in Egyptology or had such a command of history in that area. I look things up that he says, as sometimes his thoughts get jumbled, but when he talks history or literature he is always correct with his facts. Sometimes it leaves me wondering, how much will I never get the chance to know? I do not dwell on this, however. Look at how much I am still learning!
His health is deteriorating, but he has been stable for a few days, with no great falls or dips in how he is feeling. This is both good and bad news. It is good news, because these things tend to happen in cycles. A very large incident that causes his condition to worsen followed by some smaller incidents and a leveling off. It is bad news because he is leveling off now, which means another large incident may be waiting. Initially, we were convinced that he might hold on until late Spring, but as the days progress this seems less and less likely. He wants me to insist I do not say this as "doom and gloom" or in a depressing way. Instead, he wants me to emphasise that he is not satisfied with less time or choosing not to fight for more, but is rather acknowledging the situation and doing the best that he can with what time he has left, whether a few weeks or several more months.
I end now with saying that I have known this man for eight years, have pursued him for three, and have had him beside me for one. These are the richest days of my life. I am angry at times when I consider all the time we wasted. When I let Colm pursue him and did not make a claim. When I chose not to visit with the rest when they went for fear of my broken heart. When I let him leave Ireland to return to the United States and did not put up a fight but for calls he rarely answered. When I left him in Brazil and spent weeks apart when we could easily have been together. All of this time we wasted fighting our hearts, and now when there is little time left I get angry. In the same breath, I am not angry. I am grateful that we had even this year. I am grateful that I now know what it feels like to hear him breathe beside me, to have his fingers around mine, to know him against me. I have his laugh clearly in my mind, and his crooked smile and his voice. I have spent every day of this last year making a memory whereas some people spend entire lifetimes hardly nursing one. And when I consider us in that light, I cannot be angry anymore. I can only be thankful for what we have had.
He tells me now that I am showing my sappy side and, perhaps, I should go play cricket instead of rugby. But he is smiling through his tears as he says it, and we are both wishing all of you a wonderful holiday season.
God Bless
His health is deteriorating, but he has been stable for a few days, with no great falls or dips in how he is feeling. This is both good and bad news. It is good news, because these things tend to happen in cycles. A very large incident that causes his condition to worsen followed by some smaller incidents and a leveling off. It is bad news because he is leveling off now, which means another large incident may be waiting. Initially, we were convinced that he might hold on until late Spring, but as the days progress this seems less and less likely. He wants me to insist I do not say this as "doom and gloom" or in a depressing way. Instead, he wants me to emphasise that he is not satisfied with less time or choosing not to fight for more, but is rather acknowledging the situation and doing the best that he can with what time he has left, whether a few weeks or several more months.
I end now with saying that I have known this man for eight years, have pursued him for three, and have had him beside me for one. These are the richest days of my life. I am angry at times when I consider all the time we wasted. When I let Colm pursue him and did not make a claim. When I chose not to visit with the rest when they went for fear of my broken heart. When I let him leave Ireland to return to the United States and did not put up a fight but for calls he rarely answered. When I left him in Brazil and spent weeks apart when we could easily have been together. All of this time we wasted fighting our hearts, and now when there is little time left I get angry. In the same breath, I am not angry. I am grateful that we had even this year. I am grateful that I now know what it feels like to hear him breathe beside me, to have his fingers around mine, to know him against me. I have his laugh clearly in my mind, and his crooked smile and his voice. I have spent every day of this last year making a memory whereas some people spend entire lifetimes hardly nursing one. And when I consider us in that light, I cannot be angry anymore. I can only be thankful for what we have had.
He tells me now that I am showing my sappy side and, perhaps, I should go play cricket instead of rugby. But he is smiling through his tears as he says it, and we are both wishing all of you a wonderful holiday season.
God Bless