The room was humid and warm, with the sun streaming through the windows. The glare forced my eyes into a squint, causing my pounding headache to throb more. I sat on the edge of the bed, feet to one side, with no strength in my arms or legs. Thoughts racing through my mind, I listened to the colourless and disdainful conversation this man was carrying on with himself. I stared at the floor, wondering how to lay the terrazzo and get it gleaming the way it was. I flinched at the choice of words directed my way.
The man was my partner for over 42 years. This is where we found ourselves after tolerating one another. It was more of me tolerating his temper and lack of interest in anyone other than himself. Upset that the doctor diagnosed me with terminal cancer, and this nutcase was yelling. Remembering all the years I carried us in love and grit, including this very one, and my heart sinks on realising Duncan has no memory of it all. Here he stands, recovered from strokes, an aneurysm, and cancer. Duncan is yelling again and criticising my health and lineage for inherited dis-ease. My emotions flooded; I blink and keep watching him. His words were hitting my heart really hard, filling my ravaged body with a deep pain and fresh assaults. Duncan’s barrage of sentiments filled the air with decay, hence the stench in the room. This is such a sad caricature of the man I married. A man rich in dreams and ideas now finds himself in new depths and.
We had his strokes to thank for his broken brain and sharp bent of character. Relentless with the negative is the way he chose to see the world. I could not believe that this was how it would come crashing to an end.
A few months earlier, we had taken days away on holiday. That was the one time I truly felt like a queen. Affection and love seemingly restored; the sudden swing to an empty state of marriage, filled with his dire monologues, nasty stares, and constant complaints about all of us. Yet he hovered and harangued them into his demands and directions. I can see why they silently stepped away, departing from this sad town and troubled family. They went off to make and find happiness. For the most part, they were truly happy. The only time they seemed unhappy was when I called them to narrate their father’s latest episode.
A doctor knocked and strode in. My husband stopped mid-sentence, ready to start on the doctor. The doctor gave him one look and pulled out his stethoscope, listening to my heart in silence. At least someone wanted to hear my heart. Even if the doctor could not hear my heart’s pleas, I felt glad he was listening. The doctor asked me to relax, asking why I had not gotten any rest, as he examined my eyes and face, and I stuck out my tongue at his asking. My husband was silent, watching almost in envy. He preferred to hog all the attention. The doctor asked if I could get into the bed and called a nurse to help me in. Before he left, he walked up to my now shocked husband and whispered something, so that his eyes shot open wide. He looked at the doctor, then at me, and back to the doctor. Within 30 seconds, he said his goodbyes and left, rather abruptly.
Relieved, I sank back into the bed and breathed out a sigh of relief. I asked the doctor what he had said. He answered with something about my husband winding himself up to his next stroke and killing me with a lack of kindness when I needed it most. I chuckled under my breath, feeling the weight of deep sleep coming over me. I dozed off just after the nurse tucked me in and drew the curtains. As she left, the kind elderly nurse said something about putting a sign on the door to keep visitors off. Soon, sleep enveloped my whole being, and rest settled over me. My heart felt restful, and I could hear myself let out a gentle snore before dozing off completely.
The husband left my room and corridor, striding into the gents at the end of the hall. As he finished up, his phone rang. It was our youngest daughter, whom he favoured and adored. She was in tears, sobbing as she tried to speak. He had no skills for talking to her about my condition. So he took the call, answering as best as he could, and marched up and down the corridor. He left the wing once my doctor walked towards him, avoiding any further blame for my tense condition and lack of emotional support. Now our daughter took him to task about my care. He had no appropriate answers or solutions. He just did not want any responsibility for anyone, especially not for himself. The male nurse walked into the gents to investigate the cause of the commotion, prompting him to raise his voice within minutes. The male nurse walked into the gents to investigate the commotion, and within minutes, Dunca’s voice rose. I did not care what the conversation was about. I do know that Duncan was wrong and chose to let if fade out into my auditory background.
My dreams came quick, fast and sweet. Everything felt so real. I could see in wonderful technicolour, smell everything and hear every rustle in the background. It felt like a 4-D experience. It might as well have been a 7-D one! Restfulness filled my aching body, smoothing the top pf my head, into my insides, and down to my feet. My skin felt like it glowed, a little most with a soft kiss of perspiration but not enough to rouse me from my slumber. I could hear myself talk in my sleep, head gently moving, as I engaged the different characters in each dream. There was such a sense of joy that feel the light shining out of my torso and into my surroundings, both in the dream and in the room. Peace blanketed my very being and held the joy within. I may as well have levitated because I felt a delightful lightness from the start to the finish of each dream. I still felt it between dreams.
The collection of physical and mental experiences was there when I woke up. I was still smiling. The heaviness lost in the depths of the slumber I left behind. I felt like a newer version of me. The nurse seated next to me smiling, asked whether I was dreaming. I mumbled something, smiling back at her. She remarked that in all the years she attended to me, this was the first time she saw me smiling a genuine smile. I blinked and smiled wider. I had a plan and freedom was a big part of it.
Over the next few days, I regained my strength and asked the Nurses if they would walk me into the lovely little garden outside my window. I would sit under a willow tree and look up at the clear blue skies, then watch the little birds hop from bush to bush, admiring their colours and partaking to of their hapless joy. To be alive is a joy. I could feel the stirring of my joy and the way it multiplied. My children began to visit more and more. We spent a lot of time catching up on recent years and what their numerous adventures. Hearing them laugh and share in full freedom made my heart strong. Every cell in my body responded to their loving care and encouragement. My body grew on shared love and laughter.
I finally found out what had happened to Duncan. Here is the sentence in active voice:”The Nurse approached him in the bathrooms that day, and an Orderly had to be called to restrain him.”However, a more natural and idiomatic way to express the sentence in active voice would be:”The Nurse approached him in the bathrooms that day, prompting an Orderly to step in to restrain him. Before long, Security alerted the Police, who also alerted the Doctor and the Psychologist, and they arrived together. The conversation eventually de-escalated with an injectable sedative being administered to Duncan. He received a great deal of psychiatric attention and the doctors decided he needed an overnight stay and observation. That was several weeks ago and I heard that he had not left since. Saddened, I wondered if I should visit but decided my health came first.
My doctor ran a few more tests over two days. Finally, he and walked into my hospital room beaming. My body had gone into remission with no active cancer cells anywhere. My walks, plenty of sunshine, good food and begin surrounded by family had made all the difference. They sent me home a day later. Here’s the active voice sentence:”I was lighter, elated, with head and heart both stronger than ever. The day I left the hospital was the day I realised I had tethered my love to a man that did not see, hear or understand me. I was ready for a fresh start and approached life facing each new day with fresh curiosity. Life had shifted and changed in a few days. Weeks later, I was ready to face whatever the future might bring. I chose to be single me or a married but I had to be a free me. It was time.
After desperately working on our relationship for over a year,I realised that he did not want change. Duncan felt he had always been right and I had to change to fit his purposes. It took me a long while but I finally made the bold decision to divorce him. Duncan made no effort to self-regulate himself, always screaming and shouting. He had help from so many angles, including mine but chose to stay as he always was. We had nothing left to share. We had nothing more to say. There is nothing left to say, so I go my merry way.
Short Stories & Poems by WarmBreezeBliss 