Dear Alan, Do you remember our trip to Turkey in summer 2017? The weather was glorious and we enjoyed being with each other. We loved to travel, just the two of us. I adored your company and there was nobody else I wanted to see the world with. We shared more than just a love of travel, we had a deep connection and were a perfect match for each other. But it was on that wonderful trip that it started. The beginning of the end. You complained your right arm was feeling weak for no apparent reason. We were both sure it was nothing to worry about but when we got home you went to our GP. Later, various tests with a neurologist revealed something awful.
I'm sorry, you have motor neurone disease, the neurologist said. A rare degenerative condition, MND progressively damages parts of the nervous system. He predicted that you only had six months to two years left to live.
We were both bereft, but when the shock subsided, we decided to make the best of a terrible situation. You were so strong and I couldn't have been prouder of you.
'I want to create a list of all the things we need to deal with, you said. You wanted to die knowing everything was sorted out, so I wouldn't have to cope with any of it alone. That was you all over - even during the most devastating time, you thought about me first.
We sorted out money, power of attorney and division of assets like your clothes, bike, golf clubs and watches. It was tough, but we knew there was no point asking, 'Why me?' or getting angry. Instead, we were determined to make the most of our time together.
Up until then our story was like a fairy tale. I can still remember when we met on a blind date on 14 June 2006. You were 52 and I was 49. We met for drinks and spent the whole night chatting. Both divorced, we knew within a handful of dates that we'd each found our soulmate.
FUTURE PLANS
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der May 15, 2023-Ausgabe von WOMAN'S OWN.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der May 15, 2023-Ausgabe von WOMAN'S OWN.
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