Today is his 59th birthday. Most likely his last.

We had our three sons and a dear friend around the table to help celebrate the day.

Friends had provided all the feast, the trimmings, the cake and a whole lot of goodwill.

He was able to chat and laugh and smile and listen and comment and tell his stories and hug us all and kiss us all and blow out the candles and toast our lives and make some jokes and reflect and relax and feel the love we have for him. I think he found it easier than we did. As  I sat and watched the strain on our faces,  my own silvery heartache trickled down my cheeks. We have so much to be thankful for but feel a deep sadness which I never thought was humanely possible to feel.

He is greatly fatigued tonight, a little restless even. The decline has begun. I have no idea how much time we have left. I feel in my heart it isn't long now. A month maybe? I can't marry the two things together. - he's ill but here, then he will be gone. Every minute of my day is spent caring for him now. Attending to him with love and cherishing every moment we have together. I cannot conceive of life with him gone and never returning.

To all the many wives out there tonight caring for sick husbands - especially those of us who have been married for a long time - I send you my love and hugs. Please know that you are not alone in your heartache. The responsibility of the caring weighs so heavily on us all. You are all much on my mind these past nights as we travel this terrible road together. xxx