By June Chapko
In my husband’s tears, he couldn’t make my cancer go away.
In my husband’s embrace, encircling me with his protection.
I saw love when he cleaned up after me on my worst days, held my hand before surgery, and wore a smile in the recovery room.
Love was visible as I watched him play fetch with Chai when I had no energy.
I saw love when losing my hair became a game of “It’ll come back before you know it,” and him being first to find new growth.
I saw love in his patience, waiting for treatments to end.
Love was written on his face in lines.
I saw them grow last year.
Love was drawn in his smile when the words, “cancer-free” were spoken.
I saw love in his tears of joy because the cancer had gone away.
I saw love in his embrace trying to protect me forevermore.
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