After that, healing began. Slowly. Too damned slowly, but still, it began. I remember Lena telling me one time that if you put away a memory long enough, it will eventually fade. That’s how she protected herself from her mother’s abandonment after her father died. She tried to put the memories away so they’d fade and cease to be painful.
Maybe that’s why I worked so hard to never put my memories of her away, to keep them as fresh as I possibly could. I never wanted them to fade. But the truth of the matter is, whether you put them away or not, they fade. Time and age make sure of that.
And so, while I still remember many things about Lena and our marriage like they were yesterday, a portion of the pain finally faded.
Finally.
Over the years, it’s gotten easier to breathe and laugh and live. But that’s as far as I ever wanted to move on. Lena was the love of my life. My one and only. Grace was my life after her, my whole world, and now, at sixty-five years old, I’m not sure how I’m going to fill the remainder of my days when she’s gone.
When she’s gone…
I pant, suddenly short of breath. Sometimes, just the thought of letting her go…
Of losing the only other love in my life…
A stab of pain pierces me between the ribs and strikes me right in the heart. Closing my eyes tightly, I grit my teeth and force myself to take deep breaths despite the ache as I massage my sternum with the heel of my hand. I wait until it passes.
Any other man my age might fear he’s having a heart attack, but not me. I’ve suffered pains in my chest from around the time Lena died until now. It literally hurts me to think of her, but I enjoy it in a perverse way. It never fails to take me back to the place where I felt closest to her right before she died. It’s like reliving a lesser version of her death all over again, but in doing that, it seems as though I just saw her a few days ago.
That alone is worth the pain.
It also makes me anxious for the day when I’ll see her again, for real. I can almost picture her if I concentrate hard enough.
So I do.
It’s that thought, that image, the one where I can see Lena’s face reflected on the backs of my eyes, as clear as it was when she was still alive, that makes the pain go away. It’s as if God Himself is promising me that one day it won’t hurt anymore.
One day, I’ll really get to see her again.
Until then, hopefully Grace will give me a grandchild or two, but not for a while. I’m not selfish enough to pray for one right away. I want her to get settled in her life, in her marriage before she dives into adding so much more responsibility to it.
I smile as I imagine my sweet, intelligent, funny daughter bloated with pregnancy. She’ll look even more like her mother than she already does.
And that’s a lot!
When the ache subsides, I resume my task and stack the last few boxes beside the door, turning to look back at the room that Grace has occupied almost every night of her life. All except for her college years.
Those were tough as hell!
I hadn’t been away from her for more than a few hours since the day she was born. Even when she’d slept over at her friends’ houses growing up, she’d always wanted me to pick her up early. Like sunrise early. So I always did. I’d take her for breakfast, and she’d tell me all the gossip she’d learned through the course of the evening.
I’ve been fortunate in that we’ve always had such a good relationship. I can’t imagine how hard it would’ve been if we hadn’t been close. Without Lena…it would’ve been a catastrophe!
But we have been. And still are. Even after she started spreading her wings and became her own woman, we’ve remained close.
Pride bubbles up in me. I used to sit in the rocking chair in Grace’s room when she was tiny and listen to her breathe. I’d try to picture her as a teenager and as a young woman. I’d try to imagine what kind of man she’d marry, where she would want to live, what she’d choose to do with her life. I should’ve known, being her mother’s daughter, that she’d be drawn into service for others. She’s every bit as caring and nurturing as Lena, and she’s grown up hearing stories about her mother from everyone who knew her. I suppose it was a no-brainer that she’d end up being a nurse, like her mom. She even got her first job in an oncology unit and loves it.
Just like her mom.
If I remember correctly, her exact words were, “It fits me like a non-latex glove, Daddy.”
I smile.
My Grace…
My saving grace, as I call her.
And she is. Still. After all these years. I can’t fathom what my life would’ve been like after Lena without my little girl. I’m glad I didn’t have to. And I have one person to thank for that.
Lena. My beautiful, beautiful Lena.
“Daddy?”
Grace startles me from my musing.
“In here,” I call in answer.
My throat lumps up for a second. She even sounds like her mother since she’s matured.
Seconds later, Grace appears in the doorway. Her smile is wide and bright and full of sunshine. My heart swells with love and pride. “Wha’cha doing?”
“Packing up the last of your things.”