Entry #51

Holding On
by Precie


Now I see halos everywhere, bright white auras around everything.

When I tell Andrew this, he starts cleaning the living room, picking up shoes and newspapers scattered by the front door, pushing the ottoman against the sofa. His frenetic movements produce a dizzying psychedelic show.

“I’m just seeing halos, sweetie. I’m not blind,” I say, half-joking.

His inability to look at me is his only response.

“Let’s get some fresh air. How about a walk?” I suggest.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” he asks.

I respond by raising my eyebrows.

We walk in silence. Andrew grips my hand tightly. I smell moist earth. The fields around us are thawing, waking, welcoming life. When we reach the tree, we sit. Leaning against the rough bark, we watch the clouds drift across the sky. It’s a shame that he can’t see the world radiating as I do.

Andrew speaks first.

“I can’t lose you.”

“You promised you wouldn’t go all Love Story on me,” I tease.

Then I see his face. I see his puffy eyes, the subtle vertical lines left by tears, all outlined faintly in glowing white.

I cradle his head in my lap, lulling him as I would a child.

“Everything will be all right, sweetheart. I’m right here. I will always love you. And doctors aren’t always right.”