Page 77 of The Scars I Bare
“Um, Mommy? Plane?” Lizzie said.
We both blinked. A wide smile spread across my face as we each turned to see her standing by the door with her luggage neat and tidy at her side.
“Right,” Cora said, “plane.”
She turned to me, her face full of happiness and joy, and I couldn’t help myself.
“One more second, Lizzie,” I said, pulling her mom toward me.
Our noses bumped together, and she laughed as our eyes met once more. This time, I didn’t need to say it.
She knew.
Bending down, I kissed her.
And I heard fireworks.
And the cheers of one happy little girl.
Dear World,
It’s me again, Cora.
My patient left today. You know the one I was telling you about? It’s something I should have been ready for. After all, that’s what I do, right?
I take care of sick people, and eventually, they move on—in one way or another.
Some hurt more than others.
Last month, I was taking care of an elderly woman with cancer. She had come in with an infection, and one shift, she was doing well, but the next, she was gone.
I never got to say good-bye.
I got to say good-bye to Dean. That’s his name, remember?
He asked me out.
I probably shouldn’t write that.
But he asked me out with such hope in his eyes.
My wedding ring hung from the chain around my neck like a heavy weight around my heart.
That great big bear of a man with the sad eyes and the gentle soul.
God, how I wish I could have said yes.
How I wish I could have explained to him everything that was going on in my life.
The canceled plans with my parents.
The angered husband.
The bruised cheek and the pound of makeup it had taken to cover it up.
But I couldn’t.
I can’t.
