In our thirty years of marriage, this has been the most we have not slept in the same bed together. Is this preparing me for when I have to sleep alone?
When we do sleep together…
it feels so much more intimate than ever before. When we first were married, we would fall asleep spooning each other. Now we fall asleep facing each other, holding hands.
For so long I was not able to sleep too close to you because the heat just radiated off of you and with my hot flashes, I would get too hot. I would call you my Jacob, from the Twilight series. Now, with the cancer, chemo, and aftereffects of the surgery, you are Edward.
It is difficult to see how much weight you have lost.
You weigh less than when you were in high school. When I embrace your arm, it feels so small and fragile. When I rub your back, your ribs and spine are prominent. It reinforces how fragile you are right now, even if people think you are looking good. The other day you wore your NDSU sweatshirt. You looked so small in it, like a boy wearing his dad’s sweatshirt. There were so many feelings that came to me: astonishment, sympathy, fear, and even giggles. Giggles, because for some reason I could hear you saying in a teeny, tiny voice, “I’m shrinking!”
When we went to see Dr. Pierce, he stated he couldn’t believe how good you looked after reading your chart. He thought you would be coming in on a stretcher. We both laughed at that, but we were worried about your weight. You even made a comment to Jack, when he took you down, how you now understand people who have body image issues because when you look at yourself in the mirror, you see how emaciated you are and don’t like it.
With all the changes you are going through…
our love for one another has taken on a whole new meaning. You are my superhero for what you are enduring.
With all my love –
PS This was written prior to Mitch’s passing