Blossom time

June 17, 2012

Well, Blossom has left. But before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion, she has gone back to the UK to do a course which, upon her return in two months, will make us both exceedingly wealthy (that’s my plan, anyway).

So I’m sitting now in an expensive wine bar, with her wheels barely off the tarmac, celebrating my new-found freedom with a glass of $10 syrah, and already missing her.

So here and now would be an appropriate place to say thank you for her immense efforts over the last couple of months. Ever since my ambulant abilities were so rudely curtailed by attack dragons, Blossom has been a pillar of strength; I could not have done it without her.

Obviously marriage is about teamwork. But, having physically moved well outside our usual territory to what they call a ’frontier country’, Blossom was entitled to believe that our team would consist of the two of us. And it hasn’t. Due to the vagaries of the Phnom Penh sidewalk maintenance program (and the dragons), Blossom has been doing the work of two.

Much has been little things. She has taken me to the hospital innumerable times, foraged for my medications, arranged drivers, dealt sternly with those who might have taken advantage of my etiolated state, found me a wheelchair, cheerfully made me grilled cheese sandwiches and dentist appointments, massaged my foot and got my shirts ironed, none of which I could have done myself.

As many people who know me might attest, I can be bad tempered, cynical and rude. But Blossom has taken it all in her stride, even more than usual. She has made what would have been an almost impossible situation almost bearable, and done it with grace and good humour, and I’m not insensible of the debt I owe her.

Obviously, there have been moments. What marriage doesn’t have moments? But, really, I wouldn’t have put up with half of my shit over the last eight weeks. Querelous, in pain, hot and irritable, frustrated and depressed: I am not a model patient. At the beginning, when some potentially life-changing decisions had to be made, Blossom stepped up and made them, bravely. I couldn’t have been more proud.

For the next month or two, most things have been arranged for me. A swimming pool, for building up my strength. Tuk-tuk drivers to ferry me to work and back. And an exquisitely beautiful 20-year-old handmaiden to come in and cut up my mangos for breakfast.

And when I got home this evening, to our desolately empty apartment, I found a ham and cheese sandwich waiting for me in the fridge. That’s love, that is.

So, to Blossom: thank you. We both know that I couldn’t have got this far without you. Hurry back; we have new worlds to conquer, and I can’t do it without you.


Me, Blossom and our nephew Barclay in Idaho a few years ago. Spirit, innit?


2 Responses to “Blossom time”

  1. liz carruth said

    Very sweet. I miss her (and you) too. liz

  2. J&J said

    So how many glasses of $10 syrah wine did you drink before scripting the epitah…you sure blossom is coming back?

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