“He will understand. He loves you, my sweet girl. We both do.” She patted my hand and then I saw her eyes dart across the room. She was searching for something familiar. Her face became agitated. “What’s that noise?” Her voice was loud, and I withdrew my hand. As much as her doctors tried to reassure me that this was a normal part of the disease, it never got easier. “Why are there people in the room? What do they want?”
I looked to the spot where she was focusing on. It was getting dark and the dim lights cast an eerie shadow in the corner of the room. I stood up on shaky legs and turned the light on, hoping she would calm down.
Carefully, I eased back over to her bed. “The people are gone now. It’s just us.” I gentled my voice and gave her a calming touch on her shoulder.
She tensed. “No. They are still here. I see them.” My chin quivered, and I gave myself a minute to pull myself together. I leaned to the side and clicked the classical music playlist, hoping the soft melody would soothe her. Her eyes closed, and I sat on the edge of my chair waiting for her breathing to slow. I took one last look at the row of photos that lined the windowsill. The framed picture of her and my grandfather on their fiftieth wedding anniversary sat right next to a photo of the two of us. God, why couldn’t I be sixteen again. Life was so much simpler. After a kiss to the top of her head, I tucked the blanket up under her chin. My gaze paused on the quote that sat in a frame on her nightstand.
“All the things that live die. This is why you must find joy in the living, while the time is yours, and not fear the end. To deny this is to deny life. To fear this is… is to fear life.”
A smile touched my lips. That quote hit me square in the chest, as if God had just given me a sign confirming I was doing the right thing.
Now it was time to hit that curveball out of the park and go get my guy.