When I think of Chris without the ritual that I have established to avoid falling into the trap, my mind immediately strays to the final exchange we had. Then, of course, from there it’s a slippery slope to the last week of her life.
There was one signal within the last exchange which told me all I needed to know. ‘I leave now’…up until that point Chris’ English had been perfect.
Instead of musing on that that night though, I had to turn my attention to delivering news to others. That was something I’d never been good at, so rather than try to post on the board and risk misinforming people, I sent an email to a mutual friend in Tennessee informing him of the situation, and mentioned nothing of the fact that I’d been told to pass it on myself.
I noted the following day that the news had been delivered, for which I was very grateful. Six weeks then passed before I thought of it again, reflecting on the haunting fact that we had heard nothing from the support network since the day when Chris was to have had surgery. I will always remember that day in March when I received news from Tennessee.
Turned out that the surgery had gone ahead, but we’d nearly lost her. A couple more weeks passed, then we were catapulted into the first week of April…need I say more?
These memories remain with me. I don’t know what to do with them…I’d rather let them go, but they’re a part of the story all the same.