She could no longer see clearly. Her past was crystal clear but her present was a blur. Soon even that will disappear.
She may not be able to see her 3 year old daughter become a rebellious and opinionated teenager and grow into a wise and graceful woman. She will not see the autums, snow, rain and spring take their turns to visit their garden. She wil not see the black hair of her husband get sprinkled with white and slowly turn into silver. She will not be able to watch the moolight play between their tangled bodies while they made love on their rooftop romantic hideout. When she sit on their favourite bench, she will not see…
“I can see it on your face…. You are cataloguing your losses. It won’t happen.”
“I am scared. Terrified.”
“Don’t be… I am here. Always. Do you understand? Always… And nothing like you fear will happen.”
“How do you know? You heard what the doctors…” Her sound was a whisper of pain.
“Honey, I know. Trust me. I know because I love you. I know because I will not let it happen. I know because I will go to the end of the world for you. I know because I know you will not let me down.”
He whispered it again and again in her ears, willing her to see more than what her eyes could see. And she let him chase away her fears with his words, fingers, and lips.