Trish put her pad and pencil on the coffee table and sat
back in her chair. “Right, let me think about this.” I could almost hear her
brain working. “Let me put it to you this way: would you have a problem if the
situations were reversed and you were the one who was sick and Liz was
frustrated and desperately unhappy and wanted to start looking for happiness
again? And she had looked after you for all the years you’ve looked after her?”
To me this was a no-brainer. “No, I wouldn’t. If she had
done for me what I’ve done for her, I would actively encourage it. I’d probably
want her to be discreet about it. I don’t think I would want to know what was
going on. But I would think that after all this time she had suffered enough.”
“And don’t you think that if Liz was aware of your situation
she might tell you exactly the same thing? You’ve put a huge chunk of your life
into looking after her, and she knows that.”
“But I made a promise to her.”
“Yes, but things change. The circumstances are different
now. You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to feel guilty about.”
“I’d feel as guilty as hell. How could I look her in the eye
if I was seeing another woman?”
“Guilt is in the mind, John. You’re an intelligent man, and
you’d work out how to handle that. I think it’s time you started thinking of
yourself. Time you started looking for happiness again. And I think most sane
people would agree with me. I say go for it.”
Before I had a chance to respond, Trish checked her watch.
“Sorry,” she said, “we’re going to have to wrap it up for today. I have another
appointment.” She got to her feet and got a desk diary from the bureau. She
opened it up. “How about next week, same day, same time?”
I had no need to consult a diary. I didn’t even possess one.
All I had booked for the foreseeable future was two visits a day to the care
home. “Next week is fine,” I said, getting to my feet. I shook her hand. “Thank
you, Trish. Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure. And don’t forget, John, you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Extract from my book WILL YOU TELL HER, OR SHALL I? A true story. My story. The story of how I lived with the ten-year terminal illness of my wife. Available on www.booksthepublishersmissed.com
Twitter: Maximillian19
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