Can you package love?

Silence. Gone was the beep of the mobile phone. The constant whir of the laptop was lost. The ruffle of the finance section had succumbed. The early alarm had been muted. Only a few months ago these noises had been part of their everyday life.

He was at the peak of his career. Ambitions lead him to be stretched by his demanding job. Despite the commitment merging into their evening, she had supported him. He did it because he wanted to do more than provide for her. He wanted to shower her in perfume, buy her silks that grazed on her body, see her smile as he presented her with diamonds that sparkled like her eyes and holiday with her on deserted, sandy beaches. She would have like to interrupt his stampede to the top and ask him how happy it actually made him. She wanted him to step back and look at their future as a couple, to tell him it didn’t matter about the money. After all she had grown up with 4 other sisters supplied by only a street cleaner’s wage. They had begun to discuss that there was more to life than work and started making plans towards it. But then they found out.

The hectic lifestyle discarded, the quiet in this room was now intimidating. The familiar smells of disinfectant were of no comfort as she stared across the room towards his orderly bed. No longer did it show the twisted sheets indicating struggles of a restless night as she had seen in the long hours of darkness on the uncomfortable chair beside him. But now the blankets were pulled tight and lifeless.

It had come as a shock to them both. Favouring good health, they had only gone to the doctors for guidance. To find out whether they could increase there chances of creation. At most she had expected the doctor to say that he needed to slow down, it was just the stress. Yet, on routine inspection the doctors face fell grim. Unsmiling, the doctor extracted a sample of his blood and made an appointment for us the following day. It was then we rushed into hospital.

For five months he fought the disease that dominated his body. Despite his war, the cancer continued to occupy him. It seemed the harder he battled, the stronger the cancer grew, robbing him of his strength. He’d even argued with her. He didn’t want her to see how powerless he’d become, yet, she stayed by his side holding his hand. Their future was no longer where they would hope to be in two years time or connected to his career. The question was now simply “would they share another tomorrow?”.

Now, neither felt anything. She was numbed by the pain. Two slow tears trickled down her face as she held her breath. She listened, pleading to hear from him, but there was no sound. His chest now lay still. He had been liberated from the poison within his own body. He hurt no more.

It seemed cruelly ironic as she felt the kicking inside her. With one hand she touched his lifeless lips as the other stroked her hand over her bump that protruded with life. The life they had so badly longed for. The difficulty they’d had in conceiving was what initially brought them to surgery. She hadn’t realised she was pregnant then. They had found out they were expecting within the first month of his chemotherapy treatment. He had been over the moon and it spurred on his struggle. He wanted to be well again before the baby came; so he could decorate the nursery and be strong enough to be a good father.

As a nurse beckoned to her that her final time with him was over, she whispered gently to him in the darkness. She knew somehow he would hear. “This is the best gift you could ever have given me. Although you now no longer walk this earth I will always have you and our love within our baby. Thank you.”