I was pretty sure I was done with blogging, but now find myself compelled to share with the friends I’ve made here the awful news that it seems quite likely that my wife Cat has cancer. BUT IT HASN’T BEEN CONFIRMED, so it’s not like I’m secretly shopping for a tombstone or anything. Last week and this we’re going through all the tests and consultations to confirm her condition and decide what to do about it. Seems pretty clear that, no matter what, her life is going to change substantially.
If you’ve spent about any time reading my blog (like if, say, you read Top 10 Qualities to Look for In a Wife, or How I Met My Wife (Young People: Don’t Read!), you have an inkling of how much I love Cat.
We celebrate our 28th wedding anniversary this week. And we lived together for some three years before we got married. She celebrated my 21st birthday with me. Four months ago I turned 51.
So you see it’s been awhile.
I suppose. Time flies. Or stays still forever. I have no idea. Love seriously skews time—that much I know. I just met the girl. I don’t know her. I’m dying to impress her. She’s funnier than I thought a person could be. She’s so smart she’s forever freaking me out with it. When I see her, every single morning for 30 years, my heart leaps and flutters a bit. She’s ridiculously beautiful, every freakin’ time.
It’s insane, really.
Anyway, here’s this … new thing in our lives.
And suddenly, lately, I look in the mirror, and see the years.