62. Cameron
Cameron
We both know time is running out, even if we stopped saying it out loud a long time ago.
Instead of letting the weight of that crush us, we’ve been using every single day we have left to the fullest. We’ve burned through the bucket list like we were on a mission, like if we moved fast enough, maybe we could outrun the inevitable. And for a while, it felt like we could.
Road Trip
We took the road trip to Cape Cod, just the two of us and the open road.
She drove, mostly because the tiredness was getting to me more these days, but I liked watching her behind the wheel—wind in her hair, humming to whatever song was playing, sneaking glances at me when she thought I wasn’t looking.
We stopped at little diners along the way, ate way too much food, and walked along the beach at night for hours just talking after watching the sunset.
I had to stop a couple of times to catch my breath, but would try to play it off every time by lacing our fingers together and kissing her with the ocean hitting at our feet, trying to make it come off as more romantic than weak.
It was still beautiful despite that, though.
She was beautiful. She made everywhere we went more beautiful.
Rooftop Sunrise
Growing up, we would always sneak out onto the rooftop of the hospital to watch the city under the night sky.
It was our safest place. A place that held so many memories for us.
But we’d never seen the sunrise there together, never really made it a point to.
So one morning, we snuck out onto the hospital’s rooftop, wrapped in blankets, still half-asleep, just to watch the sky catch fire.
We stayed there, cuddled up for a while, talking about the future we dreamed about like we would do when we were kids, even if we knew these dreams now would be impossible. It was nice to play pretend for a while.
We made the rounds at the hospital before heading back home—quick hellos to some of my old patients, especially Maya.
I didn’t get to play a round of Uno with her this time since she had to get prepped for a procedure, but I told her I would play with her when she got out of here, just to give her a little motivation to keep pushing. Even if I couldn’t follow through.
Then I caught up with Wes and a few of the other doctors. It felt good, even if it was brief. It was like a small glimpse back into my normal life. If it hadn’t been ripped from under me.
Night Under The Stars
One of my favorite list items was the night we spent under the stars, outside the city, no tent, no roof over our heads—just us, the grass, and the sky.
She laid pressed against me, warm and soft, perfectly molded to me.
I think making love to my wife under the stars has been my favorite memory from this whole adventure list, because in that moment, I wasn’t sick. I wasn’t dying. I was just a man in love, drowning in her touch, in the way she moved against me, in the way the moonlight kissed her skin.
She made me feel infinite, even when I knew I wasn’t.
It took me back to one of my favorite memories. Our first time together—under the stars on a beach in New Jersey—which is now my second favorite memory with her.
Dancing In The Rain
We made a pact—next time it rained, no matter what we were doing, we had to stop and dance in it. No exceptions. No excuses.
We were out running errands when it happened, of course.
We had bags of groceries in our hands when the sky cracked open. Cold, relentless sheets of rain poured down, soaking us in seconds. People ran for cover, but we stood in the middle of the parking lot, staring at each other like this is it.
Then she smiled—that kind of reckless, beautiful smile that made my chest ache—and we dropped everything.
Right there, in the middle of it all, she walked over to me, and I grabbed her by the waist as we held each other and danced.
I twirled her. She twirled me. We laughed so hard I thought my ribs might crack. And then she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me like we had all the time in the world, like we weren’t standing in the pouring rain, like this moment was the only thing that existed for her.
I’d never seen anything more perfect. And when we got home, soaking wet, shivering, we both stripped down and curled up on the couch with a blanket and the gas fireplace on, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest, my fingers running through her hair.
Content to just feel connected.
Naming A Star
We were curled up together on the couch watching reruns of our favorite shows when Gabrielle got up suddenly.
I watched as she walked over to the kitchen island and started rummaging through her bag.
She walked back over to the couch with a mischievous grin and a rolled-up piece of paper in her hand.
I swung my legs off the couch and sat upright as she plopped down onto my lap, laughing. Without a word, she placed the paper in my hand and gave me that cute little impatient look, telling me to hurry up and look at it.
I opened it to see a certificate:
Right Ascension: 05h 35m | Declination: -05° 23′
has been officially named:
“Camrielle”
Named by: Gabrielle Hayes & Cameron Hayes
In honor of a love that has always reached beyond the sky,
burned brighter than the stars, and has been more enduring than time itself.
From this day forward, this star shall be known by this name,
a symbol of a bond that can never fade—
not in this world, and not in the galaxies beyond.
Constellation: Orion
I looked back at Gabrielle, who had her hands draped around my neck, staring at me with a smile on her face. She started to giggle, and then we both burst out laughing together.
“Camrielle,” I said, almost out of breath. “I can’t believe you remembered us naming a star that.”
“Yeah,” she gets out between laughs. “I remember the very real argument we had over naming it Camrielle or Gameron.”
“Gameron sounded cool,” I scoffed defensively.
“Gameron sounded like a disease!”
I shook my head, laughing with her. “The same argument you had back then, huh?”
“Yeah, well, you gave in back then, didn’t you?”
I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Because I was obsessed with always making you happy. Still am.”
She took my face in both of her hands and kissed me. It was tender and full of pure, unconditional love.
I don’t want that kind of love and light to die inside of her when I do.
I pray it doesn’t. I pray others get to experience her heart like I have. It’s so beautiful.
Favorite Movie Marathon
We spent a whole day binge-watching every childhood movie we could think of. It was stupid and simple and everything.
We laughed so hard at some of the cringey ones, and Gabrielle cried at the sappy ones…okay, maybe we both did, but I’ll be taking that to my grave.
We stayed up all night running through all of our picks until we physically couldn’t keep our eyes open any longer.
We woke up the next morning with The Parent Trap playing, right at the part where the girls tricked their parents into meeting at the hotel.
It was Gabrielle’s favorite part, so we just stayed there, cuddled up with the sun creeping through the curtains, watching the rest of the movie before making our way to the kitchen for a Gabrielle’s Special for breakfast—a large hot chocolate, a large cup of coffee, three giant chocolate chip pancakes each, and extra crisp, extra burnt bacon.
Just the way I love it, because it’s just the way she loves it.
* * *
Day after day, I started to notice that every time we checked something off the list, I’d catch her adding something new, like she was afraid for it to end. Like if she just kept adding to it, kept stretching it out, we’d never have to reach the last item, the last moment, the last goodbye.
And I let her do it.
Because if she needed to believe that would give us more time, I wasn’t going to be the one to take that from her.
I’ll keep checking off the new items she puts on that list until my last breath.