“Well, my darling man, last Thursday we heard the news. The haematologist looked so stricken when he gave us the six-month deadline that neither of us felt we could react or cry then and there, for fear of upsetting him more. You had to drive me, not for the first time, home through the rain and London traffic. We’ve shared a lot of journeys, my love \u2013 when I was your “groupie” and used to go all over the country to your gigs; travelling to Ireland to meet up with you for wonderful, passionate weekends.<\/p>\n
We met and had no intention of getting married, let alone having children. Yet when it’s right, it’s right and you were the one for me, and it seems I was the one for you.<\/p>\n
Our wedding was beautiful, and we promised in a very traditional way to love each other in sickness and in health. How blithely we made those promises. If anyone in my mind was going to be ill, it would be you. I was the peasant stock, never sick, non-smoking, healthy-eating, less stressful job person. You, at the time, smoked\u00a040 a day and were wound so tightly I could have pinged you like a banjo. We made the vows \u2013 “in sickness and in health” \u2013but you, the 40 smokes a day musician, can’t have imagined you would end up doing so much of the caring. After three caesareans, meningitis and now this untreatable lymphoma \u2013 you haven’t really had the better side of the bargain.<\/p>\n
I haven’t been lucky with the statistics, but I was lucky in love. I have no regrets, except a deep sorrow that I am leaving you. Not on your own, of course, but with our brood of three: 10, seven and three. And with my gaggle of friends, who I’m sure will be pestering you for the next year, at least. No amount of positive thinking on my part, though, will change the fact that it is going to be bloody hard, and for that I am sorry. You don’t have the same belief in a life after death as I do. It makes me smile now because the love I feel for you is so intense at times that I know there is no way it won’t remain with you in some form or other.<\/p>\n
Our rows have been as incandescent as our love; Celtic hyperbole meeting English stubbornness can lead to entrenched arguments. Think of the battle of the Boyne, add a bit more, and that would describe our fights accurately. Why is it only now that I’m understanding why and how we would reach that point?<\/p>\n
When your hand slips over my waist in one of the sleepless nights that seem to be the norm at the moment, I feel like I will never die. How could I when I’m anchored like that by the weight of your arm?<\/p>\n
I’m still hoping for a miracle, talking to the tumour on a daily basis. At the same time, I know I’ve had my miracle already and it was meeting you, having our children and the never dull 10 years with you. You are a man in a million, you are my man, my husband.<\/p>\n
Your wife”<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Think about how you would feel if you had to write such a letter to your partner or relative or friend. Act on those feelings now.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"In the Family supplement of today’s “Guardian”, there is this letter to “my husband, soon to be a widower”: “Well, my darling man, last Thursday we heard the news. The haematologist looked so stricken when he gave us the six-month deadline that neither of us felt we could react or cry then and there, for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6377","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6377","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6377"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6377\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6379,"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6377\/revisions\/6379"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6377"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6377"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rogerdarlington.me.uk\/nighthawk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6377"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}