I’m writing short
stories to practice third person instead of first.
HEALING
The clock showed
2:37 a.m. when she picked up the phone.
“Marsha, Mom is
dying.”
For the first time
in five years, Dan’s voice caused Marsha’s heart to twitch. “Is she home?”
“Yes.” Dan tried
to control the pain in his voice. “She wants to see you. Can you come? Bring
the kids?”
Marsha turned to
the back seat as she fastened her seatbelt. Jenny was already asleep again, but
David’s eyes were wide open.
“Dad said Grandma
is going to die?” He gulped. “Right away?”
How could a
twelve-year-old look so weary with life?
“Yes, honey. The
doctor said it will probably be today.”
Dan took the kids
to see his mother often. They knew she had cancer and that she’d asked for the
treatments to be stopped. Still, this would devastate them.
Why, God? Why does such a great lady have to
die too early? She loves you. She trusts you. And her family still needs her. Marsha’s
breath caught. I still need her. Please,
God …
Marsha couldn’t
force any more prayer. David had no further questions. The rest of the trip to
Cindy’s house stayed silent.
Marsha stopped the
car. “Guys, wake up. We’re here.”
She wrapped an arm
around both kids as they walked to the front steps. Dan stood inside the open
door.
“Hey, guys. Come
on in.”
Jenny looked up at
her dad. “Daddy, why are we up so early?”
He pulled her into
a hug. “Come on, baby. Grandma wants to see you.” Dan glanced at David. “Hi,
son.”
“Hi.” David
lowered his head from his father’s gaze.
Dan looked to
Marsha. “Thank you.”
Marsha nodded. Her
throat couldn’t open enough for words right then.
“The Hospice nurse
is sitting with Mom right now. She’ll leave so we can have privacy.” Dan gave a
light knock on the bedroom door, then led them inside.
Marsha noticed a
slight, gray-haired lady slip out of the room, but her eyes were drawn magnetically
to the bed.
When she and Dan
divorced five years earlier, he asked her not to tell his mom. She’d just
learned of her cancer.
“We don’t need to give
her another reason for sorrow.”
Marsha agreed, not
because she wanted to please Dan, but because Cindy was her friend. Her sister.
Her mother.
Since then, she’d
continued to visit Cindy with the kids. It’s
only been a month or so. She is … she’s so different.
Cindy lay asleep,
her hands curled beside her face. She’s
shrunk so much. She’s … dying.
David moved to the
side of the bed. He held out his hand, pulled it back, then laid it on his
grandmother’s shoulder.
Jenny pressed
close to Marsha. “Mama?” she whispered.
Marsha wrapped her
arms around her child. “It’s okay, honey. Do you want to hold Grandma’s hand?”
Jenny gave a sharp
shake of her head.
Dan knelt in front
of Jenny and cupped her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetie. If you’d like, I’ll take
you to the kitchen and get you a drink.”
Jenny nodded.
Marsha felt her daughter’s tears drip onto her hands. She bent to kiss Jenny’s
head. “Go with Daddy, sweetie.”
Jenny’s just eight. Should we have done this
to her?
“Dave, you want to come with us?”
Dan wrapped an arm around David’s shoulders.
David stiffened, then sank against his dad. Marsha watched the three of them walk
out of the room. That looked like a comforting group to be a part of.
Five years ago, Dan met Judy on a business
trip. For a short time, he turned his back on Marsha and his children.
It didn’t last long, but when he came to
Marsha to beg forgiveness, her heart shriveled and lost any spark of life for
him.
Marsha bit her lip and turned back to the
bed. She sat on the floor and rested her head on the pillow next to Cindy.
“You were my Mama.”
Cindy had been her piano teacher, her
confidante, her encourager when Marsha’s family showed her little support.
“You loved me, and listened to me. You
helped me believe Jesus loved me.”
And when Cindy invited Marsha into her home,
Marsha met Cindy’s son. A man with laughing eyes and a warm hug.
She folded her hands around the tiny, bony
hands which once were so strong.
“I’m sorry if I disappointed you. I love you
so.”
Dan sat down on the floor next to her.
“Jenny’s already asleep on the couch. David found a book to look at, but he’ll
probably be out soon.”
Marsha turned to look at the man who, for so
many years, had been her best friend. More recently, this had been a stranger’s
face, but today?
She had an overwhelming need to touch him.
She held out her hand, then stopped.
Dan enclosed her hand in his. His eyes held such
sadness.
Marsha leaned to Dan, and his arms came
around her. It felt like home.
“Thank you. Thank you … for letting me see
this.”
Cindy.
Marsha stayed in Dan’s arms, but turned back
to face her friend. Cindy’s eyes were open, sunken, but smiling.
“Marsha.” Her voice was low and breathy, but
still kind. “You are my daughter. You don’t disappoint me. But … please
remember … forgiveness is healing, and mostly for the one who forgives.”
Marsha gasped. Did Cindy know? How could she
not know?
Dan laid a gentle hand on his mother’s
cheek. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
Cindy nestled her cheek against his hand. “I
love you, precious Danny.”
Her eyes closed again and she smiled. Her
breaths were slow and calm.
Dan stood and turned to Marsha. “I should get
the nurse. In case … in case she needs medicine.”
His lips trembled, and his hands shook.
Marsha moved back into his arms and wrapped
hers around him.
Who was comforting who? It didn’t matter.
Their strength mingled to hold each other upright.