love letter

I've woken up thinking of you Huz. It's one of those evenings where I can hear crickets outside the kitchen window as I sit and type, and the quiet ebb of the gentle breeze and soft light in the house is comforting and predictable. I love this house you built me.

You keep 'awow-sing' me (!) each day we have been made to walk this slimy path that winds, and just won't be made secure no matter how much I want it to be. 

Your steadiness, your perfect questions in my appointments, your hand holding...you bathe me in love and I was able to get the injection today because you were there. Elma is not'ing to me if I have my Huz with me. No numbing cream needed. You believe I can conquer it and deal with it, and so I believe I can too.

I love that you knew I just had to ignore the sweet, but chatty admin girl as I buckled down to go to 'my happy place' while the needle went in. I love that you loaded me up with cheese and biscuits down the arm of the chair. Love that you hated walking into that infusion room as much as I did; or was it because I did?...I love that you think the cancer center's slogan is as pretentious, insulting and full of marketing madness as i do ('for us, cancer is personal'). I love that you said that if I like Miss J the crazy nurse in the infusion center then you would like her too. She does totally crack me up. I need a little spark of crazy in that place.

I don't know if Dr K would pick up on the small ways you and I communicate in his appointments. We are the masters at loving 'undercover' you and I. It might be just a quick glance, you put your arm around me, stop to clarify a question, ask the awkward question (it's a brave man who asks the Dr about his wife's ovaries!) Just you standing by me, sitting in that horrible office that has delivered us blow after blow after blow of devastating news...but there you were with me again today-my incredible lover, my soul mate and my best friend. 

You're my best thing. Definitely.

xx