It was New Year’s Eve and the most surreal of feelings. Around him people were planning their nights, selecting which location to go to in order to see the fireworks bringing in the new year.
This year there seemed no point. The Doctors had given him three months. What was the point of a resolution when the odds were so highly stacked against him.
In previous years like all his friends, he had resolved to work harder, study more diligently, be more affectionate to his wife and mother of his children and try to grow as a human being.
None of them lasted as his wife would rub him the wrong way and set him off and they’d be at it again in each other’s face defending their respective self-centred opinions.
But this year was different. There was in his mind literally no tomorrow apart from the chemo which was sucking the life out of him as it was.
The treatments were not working, the cancer had spread, there wasn’t a lot anyone could do but “make him comfortable” as he heard the doctors say to his wife.
Being ‘comfortable’ was about zonking him out. He knew that a lot of the time he was out of it and his family preferred him that way. He wasn’t a good patient, and he knew that was the case.
The only resolution he could think of was to reach out to his wife and try to make her time more bearable. He had a lot he needed to say, and at a time like this humility, not something he’d demonstrated much of up until now, was something he felt he needed to show. After all, Mr Show-off had nothing left.
He had to give it to her as she was always at his side. He understood if now she found him too much to bear and needed to walk away.
Tonight, as the world celebrated the beginning of a New Year she had chosen to be with him. The kids were with her mother. It was just the two of them.
He opened his eyes and looked at her and she at him. He realised he was with the beautiful girl he married all those years ago. He felt his fingers entwine hers.
“Let’s talk,” he whispered.