The first tears

I shed my first tears this morning. It was not the tears or anger, rage and frustration I had thought would break the dyke I have carefully built since I heard the one news I did not want to hear. These were silent, quiet tears that streamed gently as I sought forgiveness from Ranjan, forgiveness for not having found a way to escape all the pain that awaits him, forgiveness for all the humiliation and ignominy that chemotherapy brings, forgiveness for not being able to share all that he would have to go alone, though watching him will be far from pain free. His eyes welled too, but I did not want to tell him I had seen his tears though it broke my heart into million pieces. I would have liked to take him in my arms and hold me tight, but I knew that were I to do this, we would both be sobbing uncontrollably. And this we could not afford to do. Not today. Not in the days to come. I guess we both held back our tears. We made some crazy plans that were nonsensical but needed to ward the moment of weakness. We would sell the house and blow all the money, we would buy an island, go to the Caribbean. He even said to forget the treatment and see what happens. He did not know I had searched the web for this possibility and it was one we could not take. Neither of us are brave enough. It is only one like my Mom who could go down that road. We had to tread the other one.

What is gnawing at my soul just as the illness is gnawing at his body is my total sense of helplessness. I have always been called a power freak, but today all power has been taken away from me. If God was on my side, he would take my Angel in his sleep. I would not grudge him that. But that is not to be.