So, I sat today while my heart of hearts had her heart worked on. There’s no sense of being old(er) like awaiting news on your partner, lover, friend, wife…life.
I walked the halls of the hospital and got a coffee. I sat on an outside roof area and looked into the valley of the city where we have for over thirty-five years now, lived, loved, worked, played, and prayed.
They assured both of us that it was simple, minimal, and non-invasive, but none of that makes a lick of difference while you are waiting.
It was a fine, crisp early autumn-like morning in August, but it’s beauty only added to the weight on my heart as I await the news of hers.
As I looked into the city from my rooftop perch, I saw all the places we had been and recalled each and the memory it held. How we’d had dinner there… And went dancing there… And took our kids there… And on, and on, and on…
Another dear friend happened to be there, as she awaited word on the heart of her heart, also a dear friend. Both of us shared the same look… Concerns… Thoughts… Nostalgic recall of our lovers and our slowly increasing fragility. It seems almost unfair that by the time you are finally getting most of it right, you are closest to leaving this place.
So, I remain waiting as I finish this quick post. I am anxious, excited, apprehensive, and so many things as I sit here waiting for the next text from the patient services people.
I’m almost sure that all will be well, but almost isn’t near enough when it’s about all you really care about. I’d gladly trade her places if I could. After all, I’m the old fat man. Oh well, I guess that’s why it’s called “faith.”
So, all for now. I’m sure they’ll call me soon. I’m sure all will be well… I’m sure my love, my life, my partner, my wife will be well…almost. that will have to do… for now.