Molly was guided to a chair beside the gurney in the back of the ambulance, which immediately sped off with lights flashing and sirens blaring, to the emergency entrance of the hospital. As they careened down the road, she watched as they worked on her husband, preparing him for the nurses and doctors at the hospital. The fact that they were working on him gave her hope that he was still alive, and would be saved at the hospital. However, in her heart she was filled with dread that he was gone.
After coming to a sudden stop at the hospital's emergency entrance, Charlie's gurney was quickly removed and rushed through the doors. Molly was assisted out of the ambulance and slowly walked into the emergency room toward the receiving desk. She was in a fog, feeling light-headed, and beginning to wobble on her feet. Fortunately, before she fainted, she was grabbed on both sides and guided to a chair.
As she was being seated she began slowly to become aware that every one of the people they’d played cards with was with her. Molly's niece, Harriet, and her husband, Hank, who lived nearby, were also there. She was glad to see all of them. She was especially pleased to have Harriet there, as she relieved her of filling out all the forms which she was being asked to sign.
Before long, a doctor came to give her the news which she was dreading to hear: the love of her life was dead. Her soul mate of over forty-five years had left her at the young age of only 84. The doctor told her that he was pronounced dead on arrival. He had severely fractured his skull when he fell, which had immediately rendered him unconscious. The doctor assured her that he’d been completely unconscious. He did not suffer as he passed away.
Life went on, as it always does for the living, and especially for Molly who was determined not to give in to depression and old age. She was surprised by how much she enjoyed the company of her friends. She was still able to drive, and everyone offered to help around the farm, so the practical things would be taken care of, for now at least.
What could never be taken care of was the hole in her life left by Charlie. She organized his funeral with the help of the children and June, who had become more family than friend, paying close attention to the gravesite, and especially the tombstone.
It was a beautiful double tombstone. At the top, their surname was engraved in large letters. Beneath it, Charlie's name and lifespan were carved into the left side, over his grave, and on the right side was her name, with enough space underneath to add the dates of her lifespan once her body was laid in the grave next to her husband.
Finally, at the bottom of the stone were two arms – a larger, masculine one, reaching up from the left, clasping the hand of a smaller, feminine one which curved up from the right. She thought of the appropriateness of the clasped hands, because Charlie had always held her hand whenever they walked together.
‘I’m so sad you were taken from me, Charlie, at such a young age, and in such a brutal way,’ she’d whispered at the graveside. His goal had been to live as long as his grandfather, who was just a few days shy of his 100th birthday when he died. ‘But I will live with your spirit always by my side, until I eventually join you in Heaven.’
She promised to visit their gravesite as often as she could, but at least once a month. Finally, she knelt on his grave and kissed his name, and their hands, on the tombstone. And then she stood, brushed down her dress, and set about organizing a life for the living.
Charlie would have wanted that.
We’d arrived at the church, at the edge of the graveyard where Molly was to be buried, and the sight was extraordinary. I’d never seen a place of worship so packed. It was as if a major celebrity had died.
Luther introduced me to his wife and daughter, and then to Molly’s niece who had helped her with the forms when Charlie died. ‘You go on,’ I said to him as his wife began to look distressed. ‘I can work it out all out for myself.’
‘Did you know my aunt?’ asked Harriet, the niece.
‘Only by her glorious reputation.’
Harriet laughed. ‘Well, she would have liked to hear that, I think.’ She led me toward a pew and then asked, ‘Can I tell you who anyone is?’
‘Who are all the vets?’ I asked, amazed to see so many uniformed men and women greeting each other with an ease and familiarity that spoke of close friendship.
‘Yet more adopted family.’ Harriet watched my face as I tried to process yet another extension to this enormous brood, and smiled at my confusion. ‘Several years before Molly began living alone, Charlie III, a 20-yr veteran of the Marine Corps, and his brother-in-law, Michael, a 20-yr veteran of the Army, founded an American Legion Post not far from the mini-farm. They wanted to help needy veterans, especially the ones who were homeless.’
‘Extraordinary,’ I said again. This couple were the gift that just kept on giving.
‘Indeed. Do you know anybody to sit with?’