A terrible dread
enfolded Zeke like a suffocating cloak of decay. He felt the icy tendrils consuming deeper and
deeper into his soul. Though his spirit
defiantly stood against the obvious, the onslaught had begun. He would bow to the inevitable. After hearing a vertebra in her neck
collapsed, Zeke knew his wife would soon die.
Though sometimes
stormy, Zeke loved his Adrian. He knew
he wanted no other. Now his mind
swirled. No clear thought would still itself
long enough for Zeke to notice. It was
all a jumbled mass of discordant bedlam.
One thing only was clear. He
could only see the frail lady next to him.
Still holding her
hand, Zeke heard Adrian ask, “What next?”
The doctor was
speaking. Zeke watched his lips move and
heard garbled speech that must have been cohesive since Adrian responded with
another question. Zeke understood
nothing. The acidic ice continued
excavating his heart. He looked at
Adrian again. The neck brace bulged
against her tiny frame. After two years
in a bitter contest with cancer, Adrian bore the scars. Her skin pale and thin, she was weary.
For the first time the
end to his marriage was in sight. “Till
death do us part” was about to arrive.
Like oxygen fleeing his lungs, Zeke felt muscles, hearing, and vision
weaken. An ever darkening cloud faded
his vision. How does one take ownership
of emotions too painful to recognize?
How do you stand still on the tracks when you see the freight train
about to obliterate you? Then Zeke
realized he wasn’t standing. He was
kneeling, pleading.
He believed in
God. He wanted to believe healing was
possible for Adrian. Even now as her
brittle bones were breaking one by one, Zeke wanted to believe this wasn’t too
much for an omnipotent God. If Jesus
brought the dead back to life, Adrian wasn’t too far gone, was she?
The only thing that
made sense was to love Adrian. To fill
their remaining hours with nothing but love, to let her know she was the best
thing in his life. Let the cold winds
blow. She would be his focus.
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