Beep. Beep. Beep.
She lay there so peacefully, as beautiful as the day I had first met her over 60 years ago. I held onto her hand gently, as if afraid to break her brittle bones, and watched her sleep. Her eyes twitched beneath their closed lids, and I prayed she dreamt of a happier time.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I heard someone come into the room behind me, and I tore myself away from my wife's angelic face and turned to see. A woman stood in the doorway, dressed in scrubs with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. "Mr. Stevens," she addressed me, "it's time for her medicine."
I nod and put my free hand on my wife's shoulder. "Betty," I gently goaded her, "it's time to wake up."
She opened her tired eyes and turned her head to look at me. I smiled when I saw the same spark of life in her eyes I saw when we were younger, still filled with love for everyone around her. "Bill..." she said, and her hand squeezed mine gently.
I moved forward in my chair and held her thin hand with both of mine. "I'm here, Betty."
The nurse came up behind me with a small plastic cup, a number of pills rattling around in the bottom of it. "Mrs. Stevens," she said, putting down the pills on the table, "it's time for your medicine.
Together, the nurse and I helped my wife sit up in the bed. As I supported her back, I could feel the unhealthy jut of her spine, and could trace each of her ribs with my finger.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Once she had downed the last of the water, we helped Betty get comfortable once again, laying back in bed. Taking the garbage, the nurse left, leaving the two of us alone together with nothing but the beeping machines for company.
"Is Pam coming to visit today?" she asked me weakly, taking my hand once again.
I shook my head sadly. "She has an appointment after work and won't be able to make it out today."
"Oh..." she stared off at the ceiling, closing her eyes after a moment, "that's too bad."
I squeezed her hand gently to console her. "But Dennis said he'll be around, and he'll bring Andrew and Sammy by for a visit."
I saw her smile, and my heart leapt with joy as I saw it. "That will be nice. It will be nice to see them again... before..."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her voice trailed off and her smile disappeared as tears rolled down her face. I leaned forward, gently wiping them away with my fingers. Her hand came up to meet mine, forcing me to hold my hand there at her cheek. The warmth of her body warmed my aching joints, and her still silky-soft skin was pleasant to touch. We remained there, trapped in that moment, our eyes locking in a loving, thankful gaze. I leaned out of my chair and kissed her on her forehead.
Her eyes closed and her hand released mine, much to my dismay. As her hand returned to her side, I sat back down and held it, as if afraid to lose it. Shuffling my chair forward so it was nearly touching the bed, I stroked her short white hair. It was silky smooth and well cared for. Betty was always very proud of her hair, ever since she was young.
I could tell she appreciated the reassurance, despite the lack of indication. Her and I, over the years, had grown so attuned to each other that there was no need for words such as "thank you" or "I love you."
After a moment, her eyes opened, looking drastically different then they had moments before, now glazed over with exhaustion. "I'm tired," she said simply, straining to force the words from her lips.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I held her frail hand with both of mine and nodded, watching as she quickly drifted off to sleep.
This was my life now, I thought as I watched her in peaceful slumber, by her side, as it always was.
I remembered the day I had first met her. She had walked into the dance wearing a simple dress, walking with a grace that defied human comprehension. Her silken hair cascaded down over her elegant neck, and she moved with purpose as she went to meet up with her friends.
My buddy Stuart, a friend since we were kids, elbowed me and encouraged me to go up to her. It wasn't until he threatened to do it himself that I found the courage to walk up to her. Those moments where I walked across the crowded dance floor seemed like an eternity. The music played so loud, it made my head pound. The sweat and the body heat from the dance floor made the air heavy and sticky, and I felt like I was wading through water to get to her. I kept my eyes trained straight ahead, though, never wavering for a moment.
"Excuse me," I said weakly, and some of her friends giggled at my nervousness. I almost left then, so great was my anxiety.
Betty, however, was unfazed by it all. "Betty," she introduced herself. My large hands, calloused from years of work on the farm, engulfed her delicate palm as we shook hands.
"Bill," I said weakly. Her pale skin had tiny blemishes, but they did not take away from her beauty. She dragged me out to the dance floor, but the noise and the heat did not bother me, so entranced I was with her presence and the gentle touch of her hand on my arm as we danced.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The door opened, startling me from my memories. "Pam?" I asked incredulously as my daughter's familiar form stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.
"Hi, Dad," she said, coming to stand beside me, her eyes scanning the various monitors her mother was hooked up to.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"I thought you weren't going to be able to make it today."
"Plans change," she stated bluntly. "Still nothing?"
"None," I forced the word past the sudden lump in my throat as my daughter stepped beside me, placing a firm but comforting hand on my shoulder
Pam rolled her eyes. "When can she come home?" she asked rhetorically.
I leaned forward in my chair to wipe a bead of sweat from my beautiful wife's brow, swiping across her paper-thin skin with my thumb, marvelling about how soft it still was after all these years. "She may not, Pam. We talked about this."
I did not turn to see her response. Rather, I kept my eyes trained on Betty, lying there peacefully in bed. I didn't need to see my daughter to know she was unhappy with my answer.
"And why not?" she asked, and I could feel tension growing thick in the air. "Wouldn't it be better for her to die at home?"
"This is what is best, Pam," I tried to quell her growing aggravation.
"How?!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her dreams disturbed by the increase in volume, Betty opened her blue eyes tiredly, turning her head to see the cause of the disturbance. The corners of her mouth curled up into a gentle - albiet tired - smile when she saw her daughter standing there. "Pam..." her voice trailed off.
Pam rushed to her mother's side, kneeling beside the bed and grasping her hand like her only lifeline. "Hi, Mom."
I watched my wife's eyes close in exhaustion, and I watched the care our daughter took as she spoke to her. Calm. Comforting. For all the stress Pam was feeling about her mother's condition, she would never show it to her. She knew that the last thing Betty needed is to worry about us, so she kept it well hidden.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my sleeve as I watched Pam chat away to Betty. as exhausted as she was, her mother didn't say much back, just small hums from the back of her throat. Pam didn't seem to care. How much like Betty she was, I thought, like fire. Warm and caring, but vivacious and fiery. My heart swelled with pride as I watched her interact with her dying mother, telling her stories about this and that.
At last, Betty was too exhausted to stay awake, and Pam recognized it as soon as I did. Standing up, she leaned over and kissed her mother on the forehead whispering goodbye in her ear. Betty looked already fast asleep.
Pam put a comforting hand on my shoulder as she went to leave, and I brought my hand on top of hers. We held that pose for a moment, father and daughter appreciating the simple contact. "We'll talk tomorrow," she said, squeezing my shoulder gently. She left, leaving Betty and myself alone in the room once more.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I returned to my usual position on the chair beside my beautiful wife, watching her eyes dance beneath their lids in dreams. I longed to dance with them, to follow her into her sweet dreams and hold her in my arms until we both fade away, but I could not. Instead, I retained my silent vigil over her, watching over her as she slept her pain away.
I remembered back to our wedding day - and what a day it was! We had over 100 guests, each dressed to the nines, and a wonderful dinner afterwards. But all I could remember of that day was the moment I first saw her, walking in on her father's arm. Her dark hair was in a partial updo, falling down her kissable neck in an elegant tumble. The dress was her mother's, I believe, with beading down the arms and around the waist, accentuating her curvaceous frame. Her eyes, so full of life and love and happiness, were trained on me, and I watched as a smile of pure joy swept across her face. She walked towards me slowly, full of grace and beauty, and I could have passed out, mistaking this for a dream.
This was reality, though, as I was reminded by the soft touch of her hand on my arm. As I took her from her father, I couldn't help but whisper "you're beautiful," in her ear, and she rewarded me with her blissful smile once more.
I'm sure the ceremony was lovely, but I don't remember any of it. Time seemed to move slowly and quickly at the same time, and I got lost every time I looked into her eyes. "Is this real?" I kept asking myself, "could this beautiful creature really have chosen me?" Then she kissed me, and I never doubted again...
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, and I wiped them away angrily. No time for tears now, I kept telling myself, not when she's still here in this world...
I tried to imagine what life would be like after she passed on. All the arrangements for her funeral had already been made and all the legal work done. She had insisted on getting that out of the way in the early stages of her sickness. "It's so that you don't have to worry about anything when I'm gone," she had told me, like a mother gently chiding her son. But with nothing to worry about, what am I to do with my time without her? Alone in the cold house all day and night, no company except my children and grandchildren ocassionally visiting? I'd go crazy, drowning in memories of her soft hair cascading over me as we fell asleep together, or the taste of her lips on mine, or the softness in her voice as we whispered about love...
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I looked at her, peacefully sleeping, blissfully unaware of my turmoil and grief. I had made a promise to her, so many years ago, one promise that I knew I would keep throughout the rest of my days. "I will always love you."544Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4FhfdH1MN5
Wiping tears from my eyes once more, and held her fragile hand gently and waited, committing every flaw on her face and every movement of her body to memory in case it was the last time I saw her.
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"Now you're sleeping peaceful. I lie awake and pray that you'll be strong tomorrow and we'll see another day. And we will praise it, and love the light that brings a smile across your face." - Sarah McLachlan, Hold On
It is my belief that romance is not simply two people falling madly in love. Romance is being able to go through the good times and the bad times with someone, and still being able to wake up every morning and say you love them. Tragedy tests our connection, and so it is in sadness and in grief that our love flourishes. That is my belief.
Dedicated to Jim and June, who's love for each other was unsurpassed.
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