Page 39 of Enough
“It’s only been a few days, Ev. No one expects you to ever forget her. But you would be doing her a dishonor by not living. She’s watching you. She knows you mourn her.”
“She does?” I question, desperately wanting confirmation that somewhere, somehow she still exists.
“Yes, she does. I’m not going to lie to you. The pain willnever go away. But you can choose to let that pain engulf your life or you can build your life from the pain.”
I sigh heavily. She always makes sense and it’s aggravating. “Why do you have to be so smart?”
She laughs as she lifts my chin. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know deep down inside. You’ve just forgotten. Now, are you going to build or are you going to bury?”
“I want to bury, but I know you won’t let me.”
“That’s not true. You have your own hand. I can’t hold your cards. I’m too busy holding mine. You need to fold ‘em or play ‘em. Your choice. It’s always your choice.”
I feel myself teeter-tottering between her words and my heart. “I want to build. I want to play my cards, but they’re shitty cards and I want a new hand.”
“I think you’ve been holding your cards upside down, child. From where I stand, they’re pretty damn good. You just need to play them better.”
I turn to face the mirror and I stare at Gram’s reflection next to mine. “Tell me what to do. I just want someone to tell me what to do!”
“No one is going to tell you.Youneed to tell you! What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do. Reach down deep into your heart. What do you want?”
“I want to be happy,” I tell Grandma Kay’s reflection.
“Don’t tell me,” she says, pushing me forward toward the mirror. “Tell her! Tell yourself!”
I stare at my reflection. I look older than I remember. This last week has aged me.
“Tell her what you want,” she shouts.
“Jeez. You’re so pushy!” I snap.
“There’s the spunk I love!”
I sigh and laugh at the same time. I stare at myself in the mirror. This feels really stupid, but I know she’s not going to let me go back to bed until I talk to myself, so I do it.
“I want to be happy,” I whisper.
“What else?” she asks.
“I want my baby back, but I know that’s not going to happen. I want this pain in my chest to stay, but I also wish it would go away.” I take a lingering breath. “I want to stop hating myself. I want to be a better mom, and I want someone to love me. Not pretend to love me, butreallylove me. Is that too much to ask?”
“Keep going,” she encourages as she releases my arms and backs out of my mirror view.
I stare at my reflection blankly as the emotional toll of my life threatens to burst through. “I want to like me again. I want to feel beautiful. I wanna be a nurse. God, I really wanna be a nurse.” I grab hold of the edges of the sink as my chest constricts and I dig deeper.
“I want to help people. I want to save people. I want to be smart. I want to feel alive inside. I’ve been dead for years, and I want to live. I want to be able to support myself and the kids. I want to be someone they can be proud of. I want to take them away from this hell and teach them to live a life of love. I want to start over. I want to be free of the hold Mike has on me. I want to feel better about myself. I want to be enough. Not for the kids. Not for Mike or any man. I just want to be enough… for me.”
I feel her arms encase me from behind. “Yes!” she shoutswith her fist in the air. “You got it! You need to be enough for you! If you love yourself, the rest will follow.”
I nod my head and swallow hard. Deep down in my gut, I know she’s right. I know what I want. I just need to figure out how to dig myself out of my hole.
I turn to face her, resting my butt on the sink. I lift my eyes to hers. “I’m scared.”
“I’d be more worried if you weren’t.”
