I remember when she told me the news. She had been having problems. After her visit to the doctor he had required her to take some tests. Then came the specialist. I was in the car having just left work to see her home.
Her shoulders were drooping and her walk told me volumes. As she sat down next to me she broke down and began to cry. I leaned over, holding her to me, kissing her cheek.
"It will be okay honey. We'll get through whatever it is. You're strong and I am here for you. We'll get you through this."
"No. We won't John. I've...I've got cancer. They just told me I have less than a year."
"Less than a year? What do they mean less than a year? Is it that you'll need treatment for less than a year? You can do that. We can do that. I will be with you every step of the way Becky."
"No John. They meant that I have less than a year to live. I'm...dying."
I sat in stunned silence. Of all the things I expected to hear, this was the farthest from my mind. It never occurred to me that whatever it was that was bugging my love would kill her. It had to be a wrong diagnosis. She wasn't that ill. It had to be a mistake. It had to be.
"John, they told me I have several types of cancer in me. They're each killing me bit by bit. The specialist told me that I have at most a year and a half. I could die in a month though too."
"No. Not that. We'll find other doctors. There has to be a way to fight this. People survive cancer all the time. You will survive this Becky."
"I don't think so John. I can feel it inside me at times. I don't think I'm going to make it out of this one."
"Nonsense. We'll find someone who can heal you. You'll see. I'll start searching tomorrow. I'll find someone who's able to help you...to cure you. You'll see Becky."
I only wish that I felt all that sure as I was trying to sound. Her specialist was one of the best doctors around, and if he had found cancer then it most likely was. I just couldn't give up on Becky though. I loved her too much to accept this at face value. I had to try. I had to.
Our next weeks were full of me searching, locating and then getting Becky to see one doctor after another. Each time the diagnosis stayed the same. I even took her to another clinic without any background information and had them test her. Still the answer was the same. Several types of cancer, any one of them a killer in it's own right. Most even said that trying to stop it with radiation and Chemotherapy would be futile.
Nobody could say why or how. Nobody could offer a treatment that wasn't worse than the final prognosis. So...finally, after much pleading on Becky's part and a dark hole blooming in my heart, I gave up. I took her home and we began to plan the end of her days.
She could tell I was struggling with this too. We had been together since high school; having got married right after graduation. We attended college, separately, her to the one she wanted, me to the one I needed to be at. We managed to stay faithful and happy. It was hard those first years. I managed to get her pregnant three times while we were going to college too. Becky managed to stay in school and get the necessary grades needed to graduate showing the world how smart and tenacious she really was.
Tough stuff my Becky is made of. That's why this cancer thing was freaking me out so much. We had been through so much together over the years. Three kids, many moves, different problems that almost every married couple face time to time. Yet we managed to stay in love, matter of fact, our love had grown so much that I was now finding this harder to accept than I had ever dreamed anything like this could be.
If Becky died, I'd be alone. All alone. Our kids were out on their own, living their lives and they had no need for dad to come barging in. I was working, but didn't' really need to since our finances had blossomed over the years and we were sitting very well now. Neither of us had to work at all. We could just sit back and cruise for the rest of our years together.
Well, that had been the plan anyway. Now this. I was numb inside. I put on the brave front, and watched my wife slowly, oh so slowly, die. It was killing her, and it was killing me. At some point I realized I couldn't live without her. I was asleep when it hit me. I woke up in a cold sweat, and couldn't shake it either. I knew...I wouldn't make it without Becky.
That's when I began to plan my demise. I would die about six months after Becky did. It wouldn't be a suicide, well, so much that anyone could tell for certain anyway. I would go out in a blaze of glory...of sorts. Fire tends to blaze doesn't it? Nobody would be able to tell it was a suicide and the resulting findings would leave my insurance policy in effect. The kids would be taken care of for the rest of their lives, and I'd have my peace.
I didn't count on Becky seeing right through me. She did. Almost at the very moment I thought it all up too. Her insight into me was always right on the money. She had been that way for years. She could read me a mile away, blindfolded. My voice maybe? Inflections in how I spoke might have tipped her off? I was never sure but I knew that I could never hide anything from her. I never had been able to. She knew me inside and out.
We fought over it a bit, but in the end I knew that Becky wouldn't quit until I gave in. It took every bit of every little thing I had to cover it up and let her think I had changed my mind. At times I would have to look somewhere else while talking to her, even in a dark room. I just couldn't give up my plan that easy, and she couldn't accept it either.
I was finding that Becky's sex drive was kicking into high gear too. It was like she wanted to make up for the time she'd be gone or something. At times I felt guilty having sex with her knowing that she was ill. She would tell me that she wanted it, but I figured she was just trying to be...I don't know...a good wife? Making up for the time we'd lose? I never realized that her sex drive had kicked in for some reason, and that she was truly wanting me that way until almost too late.
It was difficult at times since I knew she was going to die soon. I didn't want to lose her. Not like this, and not so soon in our lives. I guess I had no choice in the matter, as neither did she. It was awkward around each other for a bit after we finally understood her end was coming. I was afraid of hurting her, she was afraid I would be hurt.
After a couple of weeks of that we finally got it all straightened out. Then, her friend Samantha came along. I was very suspicious at first since Becky had tried to fix me up with her other friends. She was afraid that I'd go off and die on my own and she also thought I needed to have someone to love after she was gone. Like I could have done that. I mean, she had my heart, there was nobody in the world that would ever get it now.
Samantha turned out to be a great person and one that I felt comfortable around. As far as I could tell, she was not interested in me 'that' way. I was relieved, yet still suspicious. I knew Becky well, and I knew she hadn't given up hope that I'd find someone else to love. Like I could.
I have always prided myself on my ability to judge someone's age. I had never been off too far in the past, and usually I'd only let some woman lie a bit to in order to not embarrass them. Yet, I knew the age of most of the women I would meet within a few minutes. I was usually within a year or less too. I had been told I was uncanny in that skill and it had served me well in business over the years too.
Anyway, when I met Samantha for the first time I was struck at how much younger she was than Becky. This woman was supposed to have been in college while Becky was? NO WAY. She had to be at least ten years younger than Becky. At the very least ten years, and probably more like fifteen if I was any judge.
When I questioned them on the age difference, I was expecting some angry stares from Becky, but I never got them. Instead I got a nervous looking wife and a fast talking Samantha. My suspicions were aroused even farther with that.
