(no subject)

[llywela]

Today is my cousin Gareth’s birthday. He’s 51. This is the birthday we did not expect him to see. Last year he took a romantic mini-break to Venice for his 50th with his long-term partner, but was taken ill while away and was in hospital by the end of the following week. By Christmas he’d been told he had lung cancer, and by the end of January he knew it was terminal. He was given a very short prognosis, planned a big family wedding that almost immediately had to be cancelled because of covid, finally managed a much more intimate wedding once restrictions allowed, and now we are one year on, it’s his birthday again, and he’s still alive. He’s not in great shape, he can barely string a sentence together anymore (although his mind is as sharp as ever, the link to the tongue has eroded), he's losing the use of his left arm, and ended up in hospital yet again the other week because the damn disease has got into his bones causing spinal fractures, he’s now waiting to have cement injected into his back to stabilise the spine. But he’s still alive. We’re optimistic now that he’ll get to have this Christmas with his kids, which seemed impossible six months ago.

The cancer is still terminal, eating away at him a little more every day. But today he is still alive and I’m thankful for that. Happy birthday, G.