The Letters of Zoë

Katie

27/08/43

My dearest Katie,

I'm sorry to be leaving you like this. I know you'll likely feel betrayed, confused and hurt. As I am writing this, I have been recently diagnosed with what you'll know will kill me. You're likely reading this after a rough few months, but I sincerely hope that they were as happy and joyous as they could've been; that's what we are throughout everything.

I hope that you can be able to understand why I chose to keep this as private for as long as I've intended to. While I know we always share everything, from the most light hearted to the darkest, I don't want this to take a toll on us. My biggest fear is that we'll become more of a nurse/patient dynamic, not a wife/wife one. I want us to continue doing what we're doing, living life and taking care of our family with no added hassle. Everything's just easier that way. We're both worriers, so even though I won't deteriorate for a number of years, you would still worry. The kids are also just too young to have this on their minds when I'm basically fine. Ye will all know when ye absolutely need to.

Katie, I love you. I love you so much, I sometimes go crazy over it. I know we haven't always been perfect, and we've had our rough patches, but we've always come back stronger than ever. I wish that we could come back from this, but I'm confident that you'll be strong even after I'm gone. You came into my life when I had no hope for even living another day, and you've made every day better since. You're gorgeous, yes, but that's not what made me fall in love with you in and of itself. That day we met, I had never opened up to someone like that. I just felt safe with you though; I knew I could trust you. Not many people can say they've trusted someone without fail for 23 years.

Many would've considered someone like me disposable back then; I was a smartass, I didn't have many aspirations because they were planned for me, and I didn't exactly want to help myself. That was me even before I got kicked out. Then, you come along, see me at my worst, and still don't give up on me. You brought me home, gave me a family and treated me better than I had ever been treated by anyone. I don't think I would've seen 18 if I hadn't met you that day. There aren't words to describe what you've done for me. You didn't have to do anything for me, but you did everything, and then some.

I say this because I know you'll somehow feel guilty for what'll happen to me; you'll think you didn't do enough, or that there was something you could've done to have me life longer. But the fact is, I've always known I'd die young. Whether it was by my own devices, or a freak accident or a sickness like this, I've never felt like I'd be around for the long haul, as much as I'd like to be now that I have such a great life. It's likely that I won't see 50, which used to seem too old for me but now I wish I could see it. I want to see it with you, and Maxie and Brook and Elsie. You've kept me around for this long, and you are a nurse so if I could be saved, you could do it with your eyes closed. But I can't be. This is final. So don't feel guilty. This is something beyond what anyone can do.

You'll also be wondering why I rejected the cure. The thing is, as I stayed up researching it, I realised it wasn't ever fully approved by any medical organizations, and the science behind it didn't add up. It's considered "The MND Vaccine". I'm already sick, and I can't get better; a vaccine wouldn't do shit. And how can a vaccine prevent something like this? Then the news stories rolled in. That man who was dead in weeks, younger than me. It's poison, amore. Pure and utter poison. I'll go when I go, with nothing to speed it up.

You will probably be wondering what to do with all my junk. Honestly, it's up to you what you'd like to keep and what you'd like to donate. But all I ask is that anything I wore on days such as our wedding and winning the Nobel Prize are preserved. Any reminder of those good days are worth it. Rina's collar is something that obviously needs to be kept; I miss that old girl. But everything else is up to you. You are your own person, and I'm your wife; it is your choice.

Katie, I need to apologise for a lot; as incredible as you've been, I always haven't been incredible back. Everything that happened after the shooting, keeping stuff like this from you and spending more time at work that I probably should've spent with you. I don't have many big regrets, but there are things I wish I'd done different. Shocker shocker, I can be a stubborn arse sometimes. I'm sorry for not always being the best wife I've could've been, because you have been. You've done everything, and I wish I could do more.

But for every regret I have, I have about a hundred more things to be thankful for. I'm thankful for your patience, for our family, for falling asleep and waking up with you in my arms. I'm thankful for walking through the halls at work and walking past you making faces or blowing kisses. I'm thankful for the family we built, those beautiful kids and those dinners at the table I always dreamed of having. You're truly everything to me and I hope you never forget that.

I hope this clears up anything you might be feeling. Never doubt how good of a wife you were, because you were the best one a woman could ask for. You did everything right, and way, way more. I just wish I could stay with you, remain with you forever as I hoped. But I take comfort in the fact that you will live on, and you'll be just fine; our kids are lovely, you're a lovely mother and your parents are lovely. Even the nursing unit is lovely. What I'm saying is, you'll always have someone to love you. And I'll love you forever. Fuck, I love you so much. I got so lucky.

All my love,

Your wife, Zoë