“Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

Christmas food, candles, Christmas tree

This chapter covers the time when George had failed to get into remission after the first line of treatment and had just started a clinical trial.

Weeks. Weeks and weeks of planning it had taken us to book our flights to Naples for Christmas. And less than a minute to cancel them. One day we were planning our next adventures and chasing our dreams, the next our cheeks were stinging from the violent slap life had dealt us. I wanted to stamp my feet in protest, to shout to the world how unfair this was, to pull my hair out. But I knew that would just upset us both even more.
Wrapped in our warmest jumpers one freezing December evening, while chatting over a mountain of spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino, I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. George pushed a rebellious spaghetto into his mouth and swallowed.
“Mariacristina. What’s up? What crazy thoughts could possibly stop a chatterbox like you in mid-flow?”

Continue reading