The weak sunlight filtered through the open curtains. It was barely dawn and already the birds were beginning their day and filling the crisp morning air with their song.
She pulled the blankets up under her chin, the slight chill in the air making her skin prickle with goosebumps. This was her favourite time of day when the house was still and there was a calm hush muffling every sound.
She had come home from the hospital a week ago, had insisted on it. The medical staff had reluctantly complied with her wishes but not surprisingly held great reservations. She wanted to die at home, the place she loved more than any other in the world, and that was one fight she had been determined to win. And she had.
She was tired, it had been a long battle. She remembered the day she had been given her diagnosis. It had been one of those perfect mornings with glorious blue skies and a mild warm breeze just taking the bite out of the sun. She was a little worried but her inherent positive nature told her it wouldn't be anything serious. How could anything bad happen on a day when the sun was shining and she had her whole life ahead of her?
The Doctor had broken the news as gently as he could but nothing...nothing could prepare her for the shock of those words. It was as if he had actually struck her such was the force of her devastation. Breast cancer.
The coming weeks had disappeared into a vapour of disbelief and fear. Her world as she knew it had collapsed like a house of cards and she was being whisked along a path of tests, specialist appointments and cold stark hospital rooms. It was a very aggressive cancer and had already started spreading. Before she could even grasp what was happening she was in the theatre having a double mastectomy. That had been the final nail in the coffin of her safe, wonderful world. Even now the pain of his rejection hurt just as much as it had back then.
She focussed on her bedroom window and the garden outside that she had lovingly brought to life. Every single plant, every tree, the sweeping lawns. It was her pride and joy. She had a full length window and had asked that the curtains be left open at all times. She didn't want to miss a single sunrise or not see the shadows dance across the lawn with the wind in the trees. She didn't want to miss her morning wave to the postman who kindly brought her mail right up to the door now. Every moment sleeping was another precious piece of time lost to her. She just wanted to commit everything to memory.
Her home had always been her sanctuary, a place to escape to when she needed a break from her busy life or whatever ailed her. The walls were made of thick stone and their strength was somehow comforting. The floors were all polished oak with thick plush rugs scattered around to add a splash of colour and warmth. Before she got sick she spent hours making little knick knacks and there were lots of interesting conversation pieces adorning the shelves. It was cosy, quaint and inviting.
She looked around her bedroom, trying to ignore the presence of the medical equipment. It was a very feminine room. Decorated in pale green and lilac with the odd splash of pink and cream in the accessories. It was a very soothing room and never failed to calm her senses. Her favourite place to sit had always been in the old rocking chair right next to the windows. She would often sit with a book and a blanket on her lap to keep out the chill, occasionally looking up to glance at something outside her insular world.
As she looked around her gaze settled on a small table a few feet from her bed. Something was amiss but she couldn't make out at first what was different. And then realisation dawned and she felt like she was drowning in memories.
An old familiar photograph was sitting next to the lamp. That very photograph had both taunted and comforted her for a long time until the day she finally put it away out of sight. She needed every ounce of strength she had to fight and beat this insidious disease. She couldn't afford to dwell on the past, she needed to focus only on the now, this moment. Finally she had had to accept that she would be a lone soldier on this deadly journey and she would need more courage than she thought she had.
It seemed like a lifetime ago now. She had been married at the time and her husband Ben didn't take the news of her illness well at all. When he was told she would need a double mastectomy he was horrified. Repelled. Oh he tried to do the right thing and stayed but in the end she told him to go. Every night as she undressed she could see the barely concealed revulsion on his face and it was like a shard of glass straight through her heart. He laughingly even tried to put up a fight but they both knew it was what he wanted.
It was hard to remain upbeat and positive but she had her life to focus on.....literally. Her heart felt like a great gaping wound but it had to be left untended while she went through the treatment. She even had a breast reconstruction but still felt torn and ripped apart. The scars in her mind were going to be harder to heal than the physical ones.
There was however, some wonderful news at the end of it all when she was told she had gone into remission.
Of course by then Ben had moved on and she had heard he was dating other women. She had always thought that once your heart was shattered into a million pieces, it simply couldn't break anymore. Somehow it always did.
The remission was short lived and she suffered a second bout of cancer which had now appeared in her lungs, her liver and her kidneys. There was no treatment his time, no hope.
It had been several weeks later that she had seen him again. She had just left her Doctor's office when she felt the hand on her shoulder. It was Ben, standing before her as if time had just stood still. What had it been? Four, maybe five years? It was as if her feet were cemented to the ground. So many emotions were coursing through her veins, jockeying for position. He had taken her arm and she had let him. Too many thoughts, too much to take in.
He had taken her for coffee and she sat there in a dreamlike state. Almost like her mind had retreated to some place far away from the bistro where they sat. He had told her that he'd made a huge mistake and realised now what a selfish pig he'd been. After pleading his case and begging forgiveness it transpired that he was sorry and wanted a
second chance.
Her mind was reeling and her thoughts were incoherent. She was afraid to speak, frightened of what might come out. For years she had fantasised about this very moment, she had longed for it and wanted it more than anything. But something was happening inside her that was totally unexpected and she was angry. Angry for the pain that still gnawed at her soul. For the hurt and humiliation of being made to feel less than a woman. Every wound was still raw and now he thought all would be forgiven.
Her answer was to get up from the table and walk away without a backward glance.
She knew she would suffer anxiety and stress over her decision but she had been through so much and couldn't go through that ever again. Over the years she had gotten rid of everything that reminded her of him but for some reason had hung on stubbornly to that one photo of the two of them standing by the pier sharing an icecream. The memory of that day always made her smile and she had been loathe to part with it.
Now there it was on the table. Perhaps the nurse had put it up in the hopes of cheering the place up a bit. She must have found it in the drawer. They had both looked so happy, so completely in love.
Suddenly she felt her strength start to ebb and a wonderful light transcended over the whole room. She had let go of her anger a long time ago but for the first time she felt at peace. Maybe she did have to see his face one last time to say goodbye properly. She had always regretted that final encounter. She certainly had every right to feel the way she did but time had softened the edges of her turmoil.
She felt her body grow heavier though conversely she felt light enough to spread her wings and fly towards the heavens. The silence seemed to magnify and envelop her in a soft hazy cocoon. She couldn't feel the pain anymore and everything seemed to move in slow motion.
She glanced at the photo of her and Ben. She couldn't see it properly from her bed but knew every single detail in her mind. Her eyes were heavy now and a deep eternal sleep beckoned. He would always be the last thing she saw and she felt grateful for that. She realised she had forgiven him after all.
