He was outside on his wheelchair and he could only move the upper part of his face. His chin was paralyzed already. He looked like he might have been either smiling and wincing; when his wife wiped his eyes, that was when you knew that he was actually crying. And then she had to walk away from behind him because she didn't want him to see her. By that time he could no longer speak...
She knelt in the darkened stairway sobbing, knowing that he didn't have much longer, that he was nearing death. So then she applied lipstick and walked into his closed-off section of the hospital room. She plugged earphones in his ears and took off her coat to reveal a little blue sundress she was wearing underneath; it matched the bow in her hair. And she started dancing, lip-syncing to the song. His eyes smiled, were bright. But there were little second-long moments when his eyes looked away from her, upward, darting wildly, glazing still. When she was done dancing, she knelt at his bedside and placed her head on his chest. He looked at her, told her in his head what would be his last words... sorry. Said he loved her. She must find happiness on her own. She faced him then, hurt so stark on her face. "I love you, too." Crying like a child, like a wife, like one angrily not wanting to let go... one who knew of the finality and yet refused to believe in goodbye.
At that moment I thought how I loved and never wanted to let you go. I felt like I was her, imagining the unbearable pain in seeing you suffer, and being so helpless in the face of it all. So angry, so scared, so torn and wrought with stubborn love.
