Emily
LAST FRIDAY WHEN I spoke to Dell on the phone, I told him he needs to figure out how important our marriage is to him. It’s Friday night again…and he’s not here. Again.
I guess I know his answer.
It hurts just to think about it, so I’m trying not to. To avoid having a complete meltdown in front of the kids, I keep coming up with mental distractions.
At six o’ clock I scrub the bathtub.
At six thirty I make a batch of cookies.
At seven I start on a crossword puzzle.
At seven fifteen I read the clue to 33 Down—Spousal severance. The answer is a six-letter word beginning with D.
When the answer—“divorce”—comes too quickly, I know it’s time to find another distraction. “Kids, I’m going to see Grandma! Does anyone want to come?”
Bree and Ann are quick to decline my invitation, on account of already having seen her once today. I can see in Cade’s eyes that he doesn’t want to go either, but maybe he recognizes by my expression that I could really use the company. “Fine,” he mumbles. “If no one else will.”
It hasn’t been a great week for Great-grandma. Yesterday she was so drugged that she could hardly open her eyes, and the day before that she was fully alert, yet couldn’t remember who we were. When we arrive, the attending nurse explains that it’s been another rough day. After dinner Grandma lost track of where she was and kept telling the staff she’s in the wrong place and needs to be moved back to the farm. I can only guess that she is remembering her earlier life out in Pendleton.
When we enter her room, Grandma’s eyes are open, but she looks worn out. “Hi there, Grandma,” I say softly. “How are you?”
There is no recognition in her eyes. Maybe a little curiosity, and definitely some fear, but no recognition. When she speaks, her mouth struggles to form the sounds. “I…I d-don…” And then she starts crying. Not bawling. There isn’t even any sound. Just a tear or two meandering down through her wrinkles. “I d-don…know you.”
“It’s Emily. Your granddaughter.”
“Do you know th’ f-f-arm? I wan’ to go.”
Now a tear drops down my face too. “It’s OK, Grace. Just rest. You’re safe here.”
Within a minute, Grandma Grace closes her eyes.
We sit there in silence at her bedside for fifteen or twenty minutes, during which time she opens her eyes several times, looks around wildly, and then closes them again. Once I’m sure that she’s actually asleep, I reach up and caress her hands. Then my tears really start to flow. Seeing Grandma like this is hard; she’s always been my anchor in life, and now her boat is drifting away. I want so much to get her advice. I long to hear her say, like she has a thousand times before, “It’ll be all right, Emily, just you wait and see.”
I know she can’t hear me, but I desperately need a sounding board, so I give Cade a few dollars and send him to find a vending machine so I can have a few minutes alone with her. “You know you’ve always been my hero, Grandma, right? I’ve always looked up to you in every way. You were there when my mother passed, and you took me under your wing and tended me like I was your own. You spent so much time caring for me that I never thought to consider that you were suffering too, over losing your daughter.” I rub her hand some more, then wipe at a pesky tear. “You and Grandpa were my angels back then. I wanted to grow up and be just like you. I wanted the marriage, the family, the perfect life you had. And now…? Now I might lose it all. That’s what I’ve dreamed of all these years, just having the kind of love that you shared with Grandpa—the kind that would go on forever and ever. For a while, I thought I had that. For years I was absolutely sure that I was on the same path as you. I thought it would be so easy…but then life got in the way.”
A few seconds tick by in silence. In the vacancy, I continue fiddling with Grandma’s coarse fingernails and bony knuckles. Then I feel her flinch, and she clasps my hands. It catches me by surprise, but I don’t pull away. I squeeze back, and when I do, Grandma’s eyes suddenly open, just a sliver. “Don’t give up, Em,” she whispers, plain as day. “It’ll be all right.” As soon as she says it, Grandma’s eyes fall closed again.
I’m crying profusely, but smiling. She didn’t say much, but for tonight, it is enough.
“Thank you, Grandma,” I say just before Cade returns with a half-eaten Snickers bar.
As we exit the room, Cade asks the one question that’s been constantly on my mind since we left the house. “Do you think Dad is there yet?”