Table For Two

We sat at a table for two. The cucumber salad slid and crunched. Slid and crunched. Eating is interesting when you try not to choke on your thoughts. On what Monday could bring.

A lot goes through one's mind when facing a possible diagnosis - again. This time it might be ALS or a similar Motor Neuron Disease. It's like a view from a roller coaster. A repeated blur of imagery that turns your stomach on its side. Especially when it's black and white.

I am hoping Monday isn't black. That light flickers in and the doctor shakes his head in a way I'd prefer.

Right now I cannot sleep because my heart is riding a wind it cannot deflect. Life is surreal. As though angels have built a forcefield around my heart; Protecting me until we know what the neurologist has to say.

I said the words out loud. The what-ifs a husband should never hear. When his eyes swell with a future of emptied thoughts. Of one pillow on his bed.

I accidentally suck my soda through the paper wrapping left on top of the straw. An attempt at sterilizing our meal. A straining of carbonated words I cannot say. The table tips with un-leveled heels. The perfect setting for such a meal. We smile through the moment. Grateful for a pause in what we know. That Monday means too much.

We pay the check. He wheels me out. I look up. He looks down. His lips are mine. I love their shape. His chin. His jaw. I fall up into his eyes. He says he cannot lose me. My chest pulls to his heart. I answer that I do not want to be lost. Our hands fold into one another on the way to the car. We can live with this - the chair. But not an empty one. Not that.

We are in the eye of a storm we thought had passed. But no matter what the doctor may say, we will one day look back in awe - at when our life was left in balance at an un-leveled table for two.