Aortic Dissection Sestina

We never mentioned dying, he and I,never talked about giving up, throwing in the towel.All the therapists were encouraging, cheeredhim on, said he was their favoritepatient. Patience, a virtue hard to come bywith so much to overcome: ruptured aorta, stroke,heart attack, tracheotomy, C. diff. The strokewas the worst, though—took away his sight and mobility. Ihated seeing how much he'd lost, my handsome man. Good-byeto our old life, morning coffee on the deck, travelto France. Now he couldn't even swallow, get down his favoritefoods: meat loaf, pumpkin pie, though his speech therapist cheeredfor his progress. An hour and a half to eat lunch, not much to cheerabout. Still. When we met, all those years ago, what a strokeof luck it was—both of us single, asking no favors,just crazy in love. He couldn't keep his hands off; Iloved being loved by someone with no agenda. Talland handsome, I wasn't going to let a second chance pass me by.We hiked, camped, canoed, went skiing. Byand by, two children came along plus the one I came with. Cheersto us, we said as each anniversary arrived. Too well,we knew our luck couldn't last. Saw the clock strikemidnight for some of our friends. But—trips to Paris, Venice, Rome. Iloved travelling with him, my boon companion. Our favoritecity? Hard to decide. Any small hotel, wine on the terrace, favoritebreakfast of croissants and jam. We felt age creep up, knew byand by we'd hang up our travelling shoes. But not this. How could Ihave imagined it? He came through a lengthy surgery cheeredby us all, but those weeks in the ICU plus the stroketook their toll. The odds were pretty much against him, thoughwe never mentioned dying, just how hard he had to work. Thoughback home, Joyce, the PT and toughest therapist, was his favorite.She coaxed him into making a circuit with his walker. The stroketook most of his functions, but he was still strong. Step bystep, he walked around the house. That was his last good day. Cheervanished with the ambulance. No more “we,” just I.By now, I've learned too well about transience and despair. The cardinal'sspring cheer can't lift my spirits. Our favorite season, but not this year.I listen to the ticking, fear the clock's next stroke.