I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly as the reality of what he had been hiding hit me all at once. This wasn’t about some other woman.
This was about my husband preparing for a future I didn’t even want to imagine.
‘I won’t let you go through this alone,’ I said. ‘We’ll get through this together, Eric, no matter what it takes.’
He nodded, and tears rolled down his face, just as they did mine.
The following months were a continuous series of visits to the doctor, treatments, and nights spent hugging each other, clinging to each other so as not to lose hope.
Eric spent all his time with the children, playing with them and taking them for walks whenever he could. He made them pancakes for dinner and pizza for breakfast.
He told them they could choose their Halloween costumes several months before the holiday.
He fought with all his might, but despite everything, the disease was relentless. He knew from the beginning that the odds were against him.
He knew it when he started writing these stories in his car, preparing for the worst, but trying to convey the best to us.
‘I’ll try as long as I can,’ he promised me one night as we lay in bed. ‘But I’m starting to… get tired.’
‘I know, my love,’ I said, tucking him in under the covers with my hands. “Whatever you do, listen to your body. Rest when it tells you to.”
Eric passed away in the quiet hours of a winter morning. I remember how quiet the house was, how empty it felt without him. Our children, so young and full of life, did not yet understand the enormity of the loss.
But they sat at the funeral with glassy eyes and lost looks on their faces.
So did I.
A few days after the funeral, when the house was filled with the muffled sounds of family and well-wishers, I finally felt ready to listen to those recordings.
I walked over to his car and took the voice recorder out of the bag where he had left it. I scrolled through the files and saw the familiar titles of my favourite childhood fairy tales.
But one of them caught my attention:
‘Our Story.’
I took a deep breath and pressed play. His voice was warm and steady, and it instantly filled the space around me.
‘Once upon a time,’ he began. ‘There was a princess. She was kind, clever, and braver than any knight in the land. But most of all, she had the biggest heart imaginable.’
I smiled.
‘One day, she met an ordinary man, a simple boy from the village, without a title or wealth. But as soon as he saw her, he knew that his life would never be the same again.’
Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to his voice enveloping me like the embrace I so desperately needed.
‘The princess and the man lived many happy years together,’ he continued. ‘Together they raised a prince and a princess. And although the man grew old and tired, he knew that his princess would live on. She would continue to rule their home… with love and strength.’
Eric’s voice faltered on the last words. I could almost picture his sad face.
‘So, my love,’ he said softly. ‘If you are listening to this, know that you were my fairy tale. You turned my ordinary life into something extraordinary. And although I can no longer be with you, your fairy tale must go on.’
It was exactly what I needed.
And now, when the days seem too hard, I listen to Eric’s voice again. And somehow I can smile again.
What would you do?