When a trip to the Physio breaks your heart... and not your back

I've been seeing a Physio about an issue with my back for a couple of weeks now. It's nothing major but I have a lot of stiffness that is causing me a lot of discomfort. And by a lot of discomfort, I mean that at times I cannot stand, or sit, and it's very sore.

Today I went along to my weekly appointment like any other week. I laid on the table, made small talk whilst also attempting to entertain 17-month old Ryder.

About half way through my appointment, an elderly man came in for his treatment and he laid on the table adjacent to me. There was a curtain drawn between us, so I was never able to see his face, but I could tell by the way he spoke that he was upset.

My Physio started talking to him, with a very sincere and solemn tone to his voice as I laid there with some weird machine attached to my back. And I laid there, contemplating stresses in my life, and worrying over a 17-month old boy who was becoming restless, I heard a heart breaking story of a man who *just* lost his wife. Of 55 years.

I felt horrible 'eavesdropping' his story, and hearing his cries. But his tears and his raw emotion got the better of me. And I cried. From behind the curtain I cried for him, for a love he lost and so desperately misses.

You see, he awoke on Christmas morning and said 'Merry Christmas' to his wife. Christmas-freaking-morning. She didn't respond - and upon checking her he realised she had a stroke, a stroke which paralysed most of her body and rendered her unable to speak, ever.

She was kept alive, and bounced between improving and 'going downhill' for a few days - and her final word before her passing a couple of weeks later was to her pregnant grandchild (who was expecting their first great-grandchild). She reached her hands onto her pregnant belly and whilst she struggled, she uttered the word 'boy'.

And she passed on not that much later.

I don't think I've ever heard a grown man cry. And this poor man was crying the way you could only expect someone to cry when they've lost the love of their life. He was trying, so hard, to let my physio know what happened - and as he struggled through each sentence, and I heard each heartbreaking moment of this woman's final days surrounded by those that desperately wanted her to stay here, I just cried with him. I kept picturing the events taking place in my mind, picturing this frail woman uttering her last words.

And the worst thing? The most heart breaking thing? That poor man was at the physio because he hurt his back in the hospital chair whilst holding onto her hand.

Suddenly, every single trivial stress in my life seemed insignificant. And there's a part of me still, hours later, that make me reflect on my marriage, my children and my loved ones - and it scares the crap out of me to even think what my life would be like without any of them. It's the same kind of fear that washes over me when watching a 'pull at the heart strings' movie... and I fear, so much, of my life without the love of my life.

There's a part of me that wants to remember this man's heartbreak for the rest of my life. To use his heartbreak to fuel more 'living in the moment' within my marriage.

And very aptly, 'Click' is just starting on TV. One of those 'pull at the heartstrings' movies that very much ties in with this exact emotion... Life is short. It's too short. But not too short to sit by your loved one in hospital, in their last moments, and hurt your back.

You can fix your back. And I am sure that went through his mind as it ached.
But his heart? I don't think that'll heal. Ever.