May ?
Dear Dairy,
I’m not sure what day it is or how much time I’ve been in the hospital. That’s the thing, though—we never have enough time.
There’s nothing like being seventeen and dying to question your belief in God. I’m so young. I can’t help but think that I’ll never graduate from high school. I’ll never go to college. Never get married and have kids. I’ll never attempt to bake another pumpkin pie with my mother for Thanksgiving. Or have that round of golf with my dad on Hilton Head Island that we’d always talked about.
I will never fly to Greece. Or climb to the top of Mount Everest. I’ll never see a volcano erupt. I’ll never get to swim with dolphins. I’ll never get to go to Disney World with Damian. But it makes me happy to think of Brennan and his mother enjoying that trip for me. I’ll watch him from Heaven.
And that’s what makes it all okay. Of all the things I’ll never be able to experience, I’ll get so much more. I guess that’s how God works.
Now, I’ll get to see Damian graduate. See him fall in love and get married. I’ll be there for my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. I’ll get to see dolphins every single day; even what they’re doing under the rolling blue seas. From Heaven, I’ll experience everything and more, and not be sick for any of it. What more can I ask for?
But knowing that my family and Damian will miss me…that’s the part I’m not sure I can handle. Especially Damian. He’s lost so much already, and I hate that I’m adding to it. I hate what I’m doing to him. Maybe he’d have been better off not knowing me.
I keep going back to our first conversation. “What if.” And the only ending I can come up with is: “What if I’d never gotten sick?”
If cancer had never invaded my body, I’d be golfing right now. Maybe in the LPGA, like I’d always dreamed. I’d be graduating. Going shopping with my mom for new clothes. Considering colleges. Dancing at clubs. Washing my hair an innumerable amount of times. I’d be hanging out at a friend’s house. Going to movies. On dates with guys. Planning a road trip with my best friends this summer.
It all sounds so great, and yet…
If I were healthy, I’d have never grown this close to my parents. Never met Damian. Never loved him and known the joys of having him love me back. I’d never have gone to prom with him. Never watched my father treat him like a son. Visit his mother and brother’s graves. I’d never have been showered in flowers. Or been serenaded on Christmas.
Without it, maybe I would’ve had a lobster dinner, but not in front of the fireplace in Damian’s den. Not with him clinging to me; needing me. I’d have never fought with him and learned what it meant to really forgive someone and be forgiven by them.
I can’t stop the tears now as I think about it. The scene still plays over in my mind and scares me just as much as it did when it happened; when I saw Damian passed out that night, sprawled out on his bed. I learned we weren’t invincible. And that I loved him more than life itself.
If you’re still wondering if I could do it all over again. If, somehow, I had been given the choice to have leukemia or not, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Nothing. My life has been so blessed, and it’s my hope that through it, I’ve been able to do the same for those around me.
I can say without a shadow of doubt…it was worth it all. All the suffering. And all the joy.
I close Kate’s dairy and set it on my lap. I’ve read it half a dozen times over the last three days since she gave it to me. Her chest rises and falls sporadically, the steady rhythm long gone. Oh God, it hurts to watch.
The skin on her hands is so thin and cold. I cover them with my palms, hoping my warmth will somehow sink into her. Swallowing the burn in my throat, I kiss her scalp and hold her against me.
“I love you, Katie,” I whisper again, wishing I’d told her a thousand times a day since I realized what she meant to me. I’m a fucking idiot for not telling her until the other night. “I love you.”
Kate shakes a little, then calms. I press my palm against her temple, gently pushing her into me where she used to feel safe. Now, she’s fading away, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.
She shakes again, and I hold my breath. This can’t be happening.
“Jason,” I say in the darkness. “Marcy?”
Kate’s mother perks her head up, wide awake.
“You’d better come over,” I hear myself say, but I don’t recognize my voice.
Somewhere behind me, I hear them get up and rush over. I keep a hold of Kate’s head, and her parents clasp her hand in theirs.
Marcy’s quiet sobs hang in the air. It’s the only sound.
Without me hearing the door open, Tammy and Leslie come in and stand at the foot of the bed. I barely notice my father next to me, his hand on my shoulder.
As day breaks, my gaze is drawn to the window. Golden rays stream into the room, and I realize I have a promise to keep.
Ever so carefully, I turn Kate’s head. “It’s sunrise, Katie. Can you see it?” I choke out the words. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself; I have to stay brave for her. “It’s beautiful, baby.”
We watch the beams waft through the curtain. Kate’s breaths are less frequent. She gasps for air, and I press my lips against her head. Tears that I’ve fought for days now overflow.
“I love you,” I say against her.
Oh God! Please hear me!
Her chest rises again. Stops. Then falls slowly.
I whisper “I love you,” over and over again, desperate to have her know. To me, she and I are the only ones in the room.
I wait to hear her inhale again, but her chest doesn’t rise. She’s gone.
I bow my head, grasping onto her. My dad hugs me to him, but I can’t let go of Kate. She’s all alone, and she needs me.
No, I need her.
For me, time inches forward in slow motion. I don’t remember getting out of her bed, or falling into my father’s arms. Kate’s parents embrace each other then hold me, Marcy’s tears soaking my shirt. They shake my father’s hand, and Marcy hugs him.
“We’d love it if you’d help us make the arrangements, Damian,” Marcy tells me.
I nod once, not hearing anything else she says. My eyes glance back to the bed where Kate lays, and I have to force myself to walk away. It hasn’t hit me fully yet. She’s just asleep.
Kate’s dead. She’s not waking up.
Familiar pain takes over, and everything gets blurry. My father drives me home; that much I sort of remember. Alone in my room, I collapse onto my bed, clutching the sheets to my chest.
All I want is for Kate to be back in my arms.
~*~
Only because I said I would, I get out of bed the next day to meet Jason and Marcy at the funeral home. In a stuffy office I don’t want to be in, we discuss the service with the director. I’m numb. I don’t have much to add until I hear something about what time to hold the service.
“Sunrise,” I say without hesitating.
The man beside me is caught off guard. “Uh, that’s early, I’m not sure if people will—”
“Fine,” I cut in, frustrated. This man has no fucking clue, and I hate him for it. “Have the service the day before, but…” I swallow whatever it is that’s rising in my throat, “bury her at sunrise.” I barely get out the last part; it tastes bitter.
A strong hand grips my shoulder. “I love that idea,” Jason says.
“Me too,” Marcy squeaks out.
“Well, then,” the director says. “I’ll make the arrangements with the cemetery.”
~*~
I sit with Kate’s parents during the funeral services Monday afternoon. It’s the last place I want to be. Dazed, I stare in front of me, avoiding the white casket surrounded by flowers. I’m sure everything the pastor says is worth listening to, but I can’t. Hell, it isn’t worth listening to. The whole thing’s just a cruel reminder that she was taken away from me.
The song I wrote for her comes on over the speakers, and I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter to Marcy, and escape to the bathroom.
I’m being a fucking pansy, but I don’t care. I sit on the toilet, my hands squeezing into my head, afraid it will all pour out of me.
“Damian?”
I hold my breath.
Go away, Dad.
“Son?”
I see his feet, then his legs as he slides down the wall in front of the stall I’m in. And nothing. He just sits there, quiet.
After a handful of minutes, he finally says, “Why don’t we go back in?”
I don’t know why I nod. Why I open the door and follow him back out to our seats. I just do it. Then I sit there, staring in front of me but unable to see anything. This is a ruse. Yeah, it must be some cosmic-ass joke. It isn’t real.
When the service is over, people make their way to the front to say their good-byes. I recognize some of her teachers from prom, her golf coach, and the whole team. Tammy is here, along with Leslie, who hugs me tight.
I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything.
Marcy squeezes my hand and smiles weakly. Jason rubs my shoulder, and they make their way to the front after everyone else has gone.
Intentionally, I stay behind. I want to be the last one to see her before they close the lid, when she’ll be lost to me forever. In seeing her, I hold on to the hope that she’ll get up and fling herself into my arms.
I can’t do this, Katie. You’re the strong one.
She looks like an angel on a bed of satin. The butterfly I’d bought her for prom is stuck to the side of her head. Metallic eyeshadow is brushed to her lids as though she applied it herself. Even the black eyeliner she hated putting on is painted over her lashes. It’s all wrong though. When she’s asleep, her eyeliner is smudged. This isn’t smudged.
Why the hell isn’t it smudged?
Her white prom dress fills the coffin, and her mother’s shoes sit in her hand.
“Yeah, that’s not how the story goes. She gets to keep the shoes.” I can still hear her voice in my head.
I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering when I carried her out to the limo after prom, the shoes hanging by their straps in her two fingers.
Opening my eyes, I glance at the flowers I’d bought. Shaped in a heart, one hundred red roses fan out among the greenery. A banner with the words “I LOVE YOU” is strung across the middle.
Carefully, I tug one of the roses from the bouquet. I kiss the petals then place it over Kate’s heart.
“I love you, Katie,” I whisper. “I’ll always love you.”