Page 50 of The Art of Loving Ellie
“Hey,” I say through tears that refuse to stop falling, “I’m right here with you.” Clasping his hand in mine, I pray that he will have the strength to continue on a little while longer. Aunt Jane and Richard walk around to the other side of his hospital bed, making their presence known, and he smiles up at them weakly.
“Hi there, Janie,” he says, and slowly lifts his opposite hand out toward her. She takes his hand in hers, giving it a firm squeeze while gracing him with her beautiful smile.
My brain cannot process the degradation of his body in so little time. I just spoke to him this past Monday, and in almost one week he’s gone from being able to speak clear sentences, to making the monitors beep when he says just a few words.
“I—I'm so sorry, Dad. I should have been here sooner,” I stop, unable to truly express the way I’m feeling with our audience. The heaviness and guilt of our last conversation press in on me, and I recall the younger version of myself, and how much trust and love she gave this man at one point in my life.
Feebly, he turns his head toward me. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m so happy to see you.” The room fills with silence, and I struggle to find any words to supply the void that sits between us all.
“Your hair is down,” he says with a smile that can’t quite reach his eyes. “It suits you.”
I reach up to touch the thick waves of my hair and feel that my neck is soaked from tears I didn’t even realize I was still crying. His once brown hair has thinned to the point of almost complete baldness, and the skin on his arms sags against his bones. It amazes me that he's still alive at all.
We spend hours with him sharing stories, and giving him company with our conversations until eventually, Aunt Jane stands. “I guess we better head on home now.”
“Actually, I’d like to stay for a while if that’s okay with you?” I look to her for permission, even though I know I don’t have to.
Giving me a sad smile, she nods her head. “Okay, honey. Why don’t you just call us when you’re ready to come home?”
“I will,” I say, and she and Richard hug me tightly, saying their goodbyes.
It’s strange to be alone here with him. I feel as though I’m visiting a distant relative rather than my own father, and I pace around the room wringing my hands as I try to figure out what I should say to him.
“Ellie, sit down, you’re stressing me out,” he says from his bed.
I laugh nervously and clasp my hands together in front of me. “There are a lot of things I want to say to you.” I walk over to his side and sit down next to him in the recliner.
He has the nerve to chuckle at me. “There’s nothing that you can say to me now that I haven’t already thought about.”
“That can’t be true.” I shake my head at him.
He’s silent for a moment and I think he’s fallen asleep until his rough voice touches my ears. “Ellie, I have wanted to tell you for so long how sorry I am for all of the things I’ve put you through.” I start to interject and he gently waves his hand at me, cutting me off. “Please, I’m weak, and I need to tell you this.” I fold my hands together in my lap and give him a nod, encouraging him to continue.
“I thought I’d struck gold the first moment your mother took an interest in me. She was, after all, the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.” He pauses to cough a few times, and with each forceful exhalation, my heart clenches. “She told me everything that a young man could ever want to hear, and the next thing I knew, she was pregnant, and we were having a shotgun wedding.
“She was so full of sadness and at that time, IknewI was the answer to her ailments. It gave me purpose, and someone to care for, but she was sick. Sick with a money hungry heart, and an addictive personality; traits that she hid from me very well.”
Shaking his head in disapproval, he looks back to me. “When we found out we were expecting, she came to me crying and panicked. She said she was going to go to the clinic and get it taken care of, but Ellie, I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear to let your tiny life be sacrificed just so we could live a little more comfortably. So, I told her that I would spend the rest of my days making sure she wouldn’t get a single cent more from me if she went through with it.”
Tears well in my eyes listening to him struggle to have this conversation with me. I have to encourage him to take a break when he begins to wheeze, and I reach over to the table beside him to help him get a sip of water.
“She agreed that she would carry you to term, and I was never as happy in my entire life as I was to feel you kicking around in her stomach.” Tears of his own gather in his faded blue eyes, and I reach out to grasp his hand tightly. “I have tried so very hard to love you with everything in me, every day of my life.”
There’s an apology in his gaze, and I open my mouth to say something—anything, but I’m unable to speak when he pauses to catch his breath, breathing in and out slowly, and his monitors begin to beep rapidly.
“Dad?” I gasp, standing up out of my chair to take action, though I have no idea where I would even begin.
The nurse in charge of his care rushes in to check on him. “Robert, how you doin’ hun?” He weakly holds a hand up, not responding to what she’s asking. She meets my eyes with sympathy. “Maybe it’s best if we give him some time to rest?”
“Yeah.” The word is thick on my tongue, and I feel my heart straining against the walls of my chest as I nod at her request.
“It’s alright, Ellie,” he rasps reassuringly, but I am anything but assured.
“I’m going to come by tomorrow and spend some time with you,” I tell him, pushing every ounce of strength in my body toward him with each word that leaves my lips, hoping even just a tiny bit sticks.
He answers me with a nod and closes his eyes. The nurse is signaling for me to leave as she starts unhooking and re-hooking his wires and tubes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad,” I say loud enough for him to hear me from the doorway, but the nurse is crowding him and injecting him with various concoctions, and he isn’t able to respond to me. Another nurse rushes into his room, and I place a hand over my mouth desperately trying to keep my sobs in as I’m pushed back toward the door.
