Thursday, July 17, 2014
“I don’t understand why we need to discuss it now.” Kyle opened the car door for me and offered me his hand. “We already have the legal paperwork done—will, advanced directive, power of attorney. That’s more than enough.”
I stood with his help then stretched my neck from side to side as we walked up the porch steps and into the house.
“It feels so mechanical,” he continued. “I don’t like thinking about it.”
“I don’t either,” I reminded him while I pulled off my jacket. “But if I don’t tell you what I want now, when will I have another chance?”
He took my jacket from me and hung it in the coat closet. “There’s plenty of time.”
I nibbled on the edge of my lip. I hoped he was right, but I also knew he wasn’t based on the shooting pain radiating from my scalp to my neck. “Either way, I want you to know. Like for my book, my funeral—”
He waved his hands in front of his face, shaking his head. “I’m not talking about your funeral.”
“Good, because I don’t want one. If you need a small gathering at my burial, fine. But, I’d rather have a celebration before I die. With happiness. And dancing. Even if it’s just you and me—I want that to be my funeral.”
“You want to celebrate your death?” He looked incredulous, his brows lifted almost to his hairline. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
I rolled my eyes, heading for the couch. The dramatics on this one. “Not my death. My life.”
He scrunched his brows together and I wondered if I was pushing him too far. This entire topic was hard for him—I knew that. It was hard for me, too.
“I think we should plan a trip.” Kyle’s spontaneous admission surprised me.
“Yeah?” I perked a little at the idea, despite how zapped my energy levels were lately. “Where do you want to go?”
He joined me on the couch, lifted my legs into his lap, and rubbed my feet. “Better question is where do you want to go?”
I tilted my head, melting into the couch cushions thanks to his skilled massage. A groan escaped my lips, my eyes closing. Beast jumped on the couch and curled into the crook of my arm. “I want to go somewhere with water.”
Kyle laughed and I opened my eyes to see him pointing out the window at our view. “This isn’t enough water for you?”
“Nope.” I grinned, pushing up my chin. “I want excitement, energy—not gentle waves on a calm lake.”
“You’ve mentioned Niagara Falls before. We could take a boat under the falls, get completely wet.”
I wiggled my brows at him. “That’s what she said.”
He opened his mouth as if to respond, but then his face seemed to droop, and he shook his head.
“What?” I prompted. “I’m not funny anymore?”
“You’re always funny, Tessa.” He glanced sideways at me. “But I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss how you make me laugh.”
I swallowed hard, focusing my gaze out the window. My voice was strangled when I finally found it. “Kyle...”
“It’s fine, Tessa. We’ve talked about it enough.”
I sat up, pulling my feet from his lap and taking his hand in mine. “No, we haven’t. I’ve talked, and you haven’t listened. At the lawyer’s office today, I just wanted to say—”
“For the last damn time, I’m not getting re-married,” Kyle cut me off.
I threw up my arms. “Not tomorrow, obviously. But, you’re only thirty. It’s completely unrealistic for you to think you’re never going to meet someone you’ll love in the future. I don’t want you to be alone.”
His nostrils flared as he tightened his jaw. Fiery eyes turned to me. “That’s not up to you now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, never one to back down from an argument. “Kyle, I’m not saying bring a date to my funeral—”
“Jesus Christ, Tessa!” He lifted my feet off his lap, gently placing them on the couch behind him before standing up and walking toward the kitchen.
Beast stood and looked between us, seemingly nervous about choosing sides.
I didn’t follow, mostly because my entire body was drained and a new headache was pounding behind my eyes. Beast settled down, this time lying on my stomach.
My dad walked into the living room a few seconds later. “What’s with the shouting?”
“It’s nothing.” I tried to push away the tears welling on my lower lashes.
“It doesn’t look like nothing, sunshine.” My dad sat where Kyle had been and gently rubbed my lower leg. “Talk to me.”
I kept my gaze focused out the window. “We finalized our wills today, which was fine. We needed that, but it also brought up the conversation of…moving on…without me.”
“Ohhhh.” He took in a deep breath and released it slowly. “That’s a tough topic.”
I rubbed the palms of my hands together, pressing them tightly into the other. “I don’t want him to be alone and miserable forever, Dad. He should remarry. He should find love after me.” I sniffed, running a hand under my nose. “He didn’t even want to talk about it—like he would never even consider it.”
My dad cleared his throat. “I never remarried after your mom died, sunshine. And I wasn’t alone or miserable—I had my two beautiful girls.”
It had never even crossed my mind that my father would date or marry again. Not that he couldn’t, but I couldn’t imagine him wanting to…at least not when we were younger. “I wasn’t thinking, Dad. I’m sorry. You had us girls, at least. Kyle is strong, but who will he have?”
My dad squeezed my leg and smiled. “Sunshine, that boy’s always going to have your sister and I, whether you’re here or not. He’s my son. That doesn’t change—period.”
A slow tear slid down my cheek and I tangled my fingers into Beast’s fur, seeking comfort from his soft side. “Promise?”
“Family doesn’t come with an out, kiddo.” He stood up, bent down, and kissed my forehead. “I’m sure when he’s ready one day, he’ll date again. Even then, he’ll still have us. We’re not going anywhere.”
I smiled under the tears that were flowing more freely now. “Thanks, Dad.”
He grabbed an empty notepad and pencil, handing it to me. “He may not listen now, but you’re leaving a piece of you behind forever in this book. Tell him. Tell everyone, everything.”
I take the items, the blank page staring back at me for only a moment or two before I know exactly what my next chapter will be.
This would be the third journal I’d fill, and far from the last. Each one a love story to breathing. To loving. To remembering I’d been here. He’d read it…eventually. I’ll be gone so much sooner than he’d like, and one day he might need me to remind him that life is worth living even when you’re dying.
And so I keep writing my story.
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Friday, July 18, 2014
“It’s not that hard, Tessa,” Elly said with a laugh as she pushed the spatula into my hand.
I frowned at the pancake she’d just placed in front of me. “If it’s so easy, why is yours all lopsided?”
“It’s not lopsided. It’s…oval?” She shrugged, then tore off a piece and popped it into her mouth. “Plus, it’s delicious.”
“I can’t flip it.” I tried to hand the spatula back to her, but she shook her head. Instead, she handed me a bowl of pancake batter.
“You can do it, come on. Just spoon a scoop onto the pan.”
“Should I have sprayed it first or something?” I asked, watching the spoonful of batter spread into a large, flat circle.
“I already did. Just wait ’til you see bubbles, then flip.” Elly flicked a tiny droplet of batter at me. I jolted in surprise as it landed on my cheek.
“Oh, gaaaaaame on!” I dipped two fingers into the batter and wiggled my brows at her.
She quickly covered her face with an empty plate. “Don’t you dare throw it!”
“Fine. I won’t.” Instead, I dragged my dirty fingers down the length of her arm.
She shrieked and spun away from me. “Gross! That’s on my shirt!”
I shrugged, laughing. “But, I didn’t throw it.”
“You’re such a child,” she said with a chuckle “It’s almost time to flip. Grab your spatula.”
I wiped my hand off on a kitchen towel and gripped the spatula. I slid the edge under the bubbling mass, twisted, and slammed the pancake back down on the pan. Splatters of batter danced in several directions, and the entire thing squished to one side.
I made a check mark motion with my hand. “Pancake flipping. Cross that off my list, but I just killed it.”
Elly frowned, holding out a plate. “What list?”
“My bucket list.” I lifted the finished pancake onto her plate and garnished it with some whip cream.
Elly let out an audible sigh. “Do you have to do that? Talk about it all the time? We were having a nice moment. We don’t have to dwell on…the rest.”
Ha. I wish my body would let me. “I’m not dwelling. I’m making the most of what I have, but I can’t ignore any of it even if I wanted to. It’s happening, and I’m living with it.”
“You’re not living with anything,” she snapped. “You’re dying.”
I move to the kitchen table, lowering myself into one of the chairs. I’m exhausted from standing the last fifteen minutes—another reminder I can’t ignore. “So are you. So is everyone. We’re all living until we die. I just happen to have a shorter timeframe than most.”
Elly turned off the stove, then headed for the doorway. She paused to look at me. “I don’t understand how you’re okay with this. How you’re totally fine with leaving us.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “With leaving me.”
I started to respond, but she left and I was too tired to follow her. Frowning, I dropped my head back against the chair before letting out a loud groan. I’d been stormed out on more times in the last few days than I could count. No one was talking much. It was awkward and stiff, and I hated it.
I hated that they couldn’t see how hard I was trying to hold it together—for them.
They needed me to be miserable, demonstrably hurt by my diagnosis, while also slapping on a smile and bucking the fuck up. They needed apologetic Tessa, guilt-ridden for putting them through this, and furious Tessa, wanting revenge on a conspirator I can’t see.
I’m none of those. And all of them.
I’m enraged that the life I’d envisioned for myself isn’t going to happen. I’m heartbroken Kyle and I will never have the family we dreamed. I’m physically aching at the idea that both my dad and my sister will lose yet another woman they love to cancer. I’m petrified of what it’ll be like, what it’ll feel like, or how empty it feels to know I’ll be here one moment…and gone the next.
I had no answers for them…or for myself. I didn’t even know the right questions—the only ruminations circling my consciousness were when? Why?
Why me?