I wasn't going to wtrite about this - but, impulsively, have decided to. I had to get E into hospital on Saturday as she was experiencing severe tummy pains; and had been for a couple of days. From A&E she was admitted, for further checks. On a trolley, she was wheeled up to the medical wards and as we approached the wards (5,6,7 to the left, 8,9,10 to the right) she closed her eyes, went very pale and whispered "Please turn left. Please turn left." We were going right to the wards that Mags had been in - and where she had been to the day, 2 years ago.
We did go left. Thankfully.
How strange that we should be forced by fate to go into that hospital and into those wards, on the very day (23rd June) that I was told that Mags was not going to pull through this time. She stayed there for 6 more days.
Happily. E is out again, on a very strict no-fat diet, with scans and possible op. to come.
Maybe a good place to post a couple more bits of verse, written soon after that dark time.

FATE

I’ve thought about dying.
Since our Mags.
Thought about death
Not in a frightening way.
And love
About their pain and beauty
And about fate.
For fate defines our love
Just as it defines our death
And perhaps, our way of going.

Mags left, so peacefully
And I believe
Fate allowed her
To hold the hands
Of those she loved the most in this whole world.

She was content
Fulfilled within her departing world.
Fate was good to her.
In that sense.
I’ve thought a lot about dying - since then.

And I hope fate is good to me.
Because there is one
Who loves me enough
Loves me in that quiet, loyal and undemanding way
To quietly sit
And stay
And listen
And silently cry with me
For what we both will lose.
She’ll be there,
If fate is kind.

My Love.

Are you happy, my love?
In that place where you are?
Are you smiling in peace?
Are you touching your star?
Are you feeling at last, that life can be good,
The way that we hoped, that one day it would?

No more worry or doubt
What’s this pain all about?
No more scans,
No more tests,
No more chemo
Or rests,
To recover your strength so you’re ready again,
For the checks.
For the drugs.
For the hair.
For the pain.

Are you happy, my love, where you are?


August 2005