Where were we this time last year? We had the routine down. Knew all about chemo, scans, radiation.
That nasty staph infection that almost killed Leroy overshadowed his cancer for a while. In fact, we were just getting back to the beast a year ago this week. Those Hopkins commutes resumed with some regularity. I swear I was starting to recognize some of the big rig trucks and their drivers on I-95. The new scans showed new spread, but also some signs of tumors shrinking.
There was still plenty of hope in our hearts and plans to be made. It was always "a life worth living." Leroy was looking forward to this year's holiday season, when he would be walking better, feeling stronger, and able to tackle the malls. He was thinking we would, once again, be sitting at a table at our favorite restaurant for New Year's Eve.
But the year would reveal itself with a different plan in mind.
Cancer may have taken Leroy from me, but I will not allow it to take away his spirit. On New Year's Eve, I will raise a glass to the Big Guy. At the canal, sitting on a tree stump among the oaks.
Table for one. I'll have the champagne, please.