Paul Leahy ~ dad, spouse, lover, rock guitarist Super Duper Star ~ December 1, 1958-January 26, 2017

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Stories

Hanging out 'til the end. These are my blogs from Paul's final months.

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New!
Polly (We All Miss You)
by Marc L'Esperance

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That sickness that pervades Creation has invaded my beloved, Paul. Oddly, one of those old aphorisms popped into my head the other day. You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. . .
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It may sound awful but there are moments when the foremost thought I have is "how will the laundry get done?" It's true. My sweetie is critically ill and I'm worried about the laundry.
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A few weeks ago I asked Paul if there was something special that he wanted to do, for his birthday or otherwise. At first he shook his head then made a face and picked up his clip board. He wrote "Go out for pizza and a nice glass of wine. Come home and cuddle with my family. Make love to my wife." Heartbreak.
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The last time I remember having a sustained cold snap like this was 20 years ago. That was the year Finn was born.  I can still remember watching Paul sitting at the night darkened window with infant Finn in his armsl. Lit only by the coloured Christmas lights, they bounced gently, watching the snowy world outside.
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Of course it’s Friday the 13th. Of course it is.
I am exhausted and breaking apart. Part of me can hardly believe that this thing is even happening, that it will happen. And part of me thinks let’s just get it over with. Both awful. Both real.
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We all know how this is going to end but it’s hard to fathom. And it will be harder when we go home without him. Already, before we even came to hospice, I missed saying good-bye. It was a ritual for Paul
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