Give Me A Reason

by Jennifer Miller

  “Yes. Have you ever taken a domino set or watched as the tiles are lined up in a row, and with one push of the first, all the rest end up going down one at a time as well? It’s a result of the initial action. I believe that these things are kind of like that. One thing happens and there are many things affected as a result. I believe that with every painful or joyous occurrence, something beautiful happens as a result. That we, in our sorrow and loss, or happiness and gain, are the catalyst for events in the lives of others. We may not see it right away, and often never do, especially when the impact is to someone outside of our immediate sphere, but it’s there. Something wonderful happens out of each action. We just can’t see the big picture. He does. And he knows exactly what he is doing. I also believe – and I know this sounds trivial perhaps given your situation, but I also believe he never gives a person more than they can bear. His word promises that. And I believe he gives each person the grace and wisdom to manage each predicament they find themselves in.”

  I nod, understanding his explanations, but not sure I feel a whole lot better having heard them. “Sometimes I’m afraid of what I’ve become or will become without my mom. It was just the two of us against the world for so long. And now it’s just me.”

  “You have nothing to fear, child. God gave you this life because he knew you were strong enough to live it.”

  “To live it,” I repeat in a whisper.

  “I think one of the things people tend to struggle with is control. We want to control every aspect of our lives and in this day and age people are misled to believe not only that they should, but that they can. That is one of society’s lies. While not having control of things is frightening – the truth is that there is freedom and peace in letting go and letting God take on your cares and burdens. After all, he is in control of the entire universe. And he can take on your concerns as well. Many scriptures speak to that. You may want to consider leaning in to that truth.” He speaks earnestly yet softly and something within me relaxes at his words. And wants to make them mine. “I’m sure you’ve thought of this, but it’s so very true – none of us know how much time we have. You could leave here and meet an unfortunate accident and be taken from this earth. Time is not guaranteed to any of us. Therefore, I think it’s important that we spend every minute making sure we are living our best life. Sometimes we’re taken into troubled waters so we can be cleansed. Maybe this is your cleansing, Remy. Sometimes we have to experience things we don’t understand so that in the end we’re brought to the exact place we’re supposed to be.”

  “And in the mean time?” I ask him wondering what I do in the interim with all this worry and fear.

  “Faith, Remy. Hope in the face of hopelessness.” He stands instinctively knowing that I need time to myself, but then turns back once more, “That voice inside of you that brought you in here today? The quieter you become, the more you can hear. Keep listening for it. Oh, and Remy. All those years…you weren’t alone with your mother. He was there all the time and still is.” I nod and with a small smile, he walks away.

  Sitting with my thoughts for a few moments, I realize that I feel better for having this conversation. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of me. I’m not sure if I believe everything he said – in many ways it’s his opinion, but somehow I do find it promising.

  Standing to leave, I decide to do one thing first. Walking down the aisle I reach the flickering candles and take an unlit one and light it with a burning candle. “For you mom,” I whisper. I don’t say anything else, for I’m confident that words aren’t necessary – my thoughts and feelings are known.

  Turning, I move slowly down the aisle to leave the church. I find I’m reluctant – not minding the peace being here has given me. With a sigh, I walk into the foyer and then push the doors leading outside. The sun is bright and I squint at the difference. Once my eyes focus, I freeze.

  Sitting on the steps, is Oliver. He doesn’t hear me at first and I can watch him without detection for a moment. He looks sad and worried. He keeps running his hand through his hair and I feel guilty for leaving like that and making him worry.

  I make sure to scrape my shoe against the pavement as I go down the first stair making Oliver look over his shoulder and then jump up when he sees me.

  I give him a smile and I can see the stress in his shoulders fall away. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  When I reach the same step he’s on, he reaches for my hand, “We need to talk.”

  “Okay. We just need a cab back to the resort first.”

  “No, I have something better in mind.”

  He tugs on my hand and begins walking down the street with a clear destination in mind.

  Oliver walks quickly down the street, but when he suddenly stops and looks around, I wonder what he’s doing. He pulls on my ha

  nd again and we cross the street, “Where are we going? And come to think of it, how did you know I was in the church?”

  He flashes me a smile, “When you walked out of the room, I paused for all of two minutes, if that, before I went after you. I just happened to get to the front of the hotel in time to see you get into a taxi. I may or may not have bribed the bellhop in order to find out where you were headed. Then when I arrived, I peeked in the church, saw you sitting there and decided to wait on the steps for you.”

  That’s one of the many things I love about Oliver, he didn’t bust in and interrupt, or demand we talk and there’s no indication that he intends to continue our fight. In fact, he hasn’t even inquired why the church or what transpired, but respects my right to privacy. He’s always been good about knowing when he’s made his point and when I need time and space and giving it to me. “Note to self, bellhops can’t be trusted.”

  Oliver chuckles, “Well, I have a feeling you’ll forgive him shortly. Let’s go through here.”

  We walk in between a seafood restaurant and a beauty spa. Inside the spa we can see women getting manicures and pedicures. Oliver keeps walking and when we are behind the buildings, I realize the buildings were beachfront. Some of them open to the large sandy beach but most do not. The sound of gulls and waves capture my attention while the sea breeze lifts my thoughts. Each and every time I see the ocean it takes my breath away – I think it would always be this way.

  Ahead of us are high sand dunes interspersed between rock cliffs. Oliver locates a path that leads between the sand dunes and down to the shore. Many steps later, we walk down the beach. “Just a little further, I think,” Oliver mumbles.

  We don’t walk too much further before Oliver tugs my hand and we move toward an alcove of sorts. When we get inside what feels like our own little cocoon, I marvel at the fact that we are completely alone. The beach is completely deserted which somehow seems strange. “Wow.”

  “He told me it was amazing.”

  “Who told you?”

  “The bellhop. He told me about this place. I may have told him I had some groveling to do and he confided to me that this would be the place to do so and obtain some privacy. He said that only locals know about this place and that during the day it would likely be deserted because people would be working.”

  “Maybe I’m not so mad at him now for giving up my location,” I tease.

  “I figured…I mean was hopeful…you would think so,” he smiles.

  Oliver pulls the backpack straps down his shoulders, allows it to fall into his hand as he unzips it. From inside he pulls out a large yellow beach blanket. Then he reaches back inside and pulls out two oranges both of which he hands to me.

  “Hungry?”

  “Yes, thank you. Where did you get the blanket?”

  “Did you see the small souvenir shop a little ways from the church?” I shake my head. “While I waited for you I quickly ran in and out of there and fortunately they had one.”

  “Great idea.” Doing the best I can with one hand while the other holds our oranges, I help him spread it out. Once it’s on the ground, he sits down and then invi
tes me to sit beside him by patting the area next to him. Not needing to be asked twice, I sit and hand him one of the oranges. We both peel and eat the oranges; a relaxed silence between us while we enjoy the sweet tanginess on our lips and the sun on our skin. “I could stay here forever.”

  He nods, “Me too. You know, if I could figure out how to bottle up the feeling the ocean brings me, make it portable for people to bring with them wherever they go, I’d be a rich man.”

  “No doubt about it, but that would definitely take the fun out of coming here, wouldn’t it?”

  “True,” he smiles at me and then takes the orange peels from my hands and his and places them inside a plastic bag before putting it inside his backpack. He asks somewhat gingerly if I received what I was seeking when I went to the church and I tell him about some of my conversation with the priest. After that, he’s very quiet - his brow is furrowed and his eyes stay on the ocean. I struggle with letting him deal with his own thoughts or inquiring if something is bothering him, but before I can decide he breaks his silence, “I’d like to get some things off of my chest.”

  “Alright,” I smile reassuringly while inside feeling my stomach immediately tighten into huge knots.

  “I want to talk to you about this for a few reasons, but the main one is because I want you to understand where I’m coming from when I don’t handle your potential choice of not seeking treatment very well.” He takes a deep breath and then emits a genuine smile, “I still remember exactly how you looked the first time I saw you. Did I ever tell you that?” I shake my head no, “It’s true,” he insists. “Pink dress, a crown on your head, curls in your hair,” he touches the much shorter hair I now have. “I remember punching Brad in the stomach when he made fun of me in the seventh grade for being best friends with a girl. I told him you weren’t just a girl, you were my girl and he better shut his mouth.”

  “You never told me that.”

  He shrugs, “I remember all kinds of moments between us when we were kids, when we were teenagers and of course as adults. There’s one that stands out in particular.” He turns toward me fully now, his eyes on mine, “It’s funny because it’s just a simple moment – there’s nothing remarkable about the day or time. I had pulled into my driveway moments before you walked out your front door. You were wearing short shorts and a white tank top. Your feet were bare and your hair was in one of those bun things on the top of your head, but it was shining in the light from the sun. You know what you were doing?” I shake my head, but realize he’s not really asking me. “You were walking to your mailbox to get the mail. When you closed it, you headed back toward your front door, but before you reached it you looked over at my house. Then you looked at my car and saw me there. You waved and smiled and I was completely spellbound by you because the sun was in a perfect position in the sky such that it was at your back and it made you look like you were glowing. It was like God himself was smacking me in the face. I remember thinking that the glow around you matched the vibrant realization I had in my mind at the time. A realization that scared me and excited me at the same time.”

  “What realization?”

  “A realization so intense that I lost my breath with the thought and my heart started beating double time. I got out of the car and returned your wave and I was sure you could see.”

  “See what?” I ask not remembering the moment he’s talking about.

  “See that I had been metaphorically punched in the gut. I had to lean against my car to steady myself because I had just realized how absolutely and totally in love with you I was.”

  My mouth drops open in surprise and I shake my head, “What? No you weren’t.”

  He laughs, “Yes. Yes, I was.” I’m too shocked to do more than stare at him. “I know that in the way a little boy can, I may have loved you the day I met you. When I realized the extent of my feelings in high school I convinced myself that crossing the line and telling you how I felt would royally screw up our friendship. I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it – I refused – so I never said a word. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship – that wasn’t an option. So, I did my best to push my feelings aside – shove them deep down and ignore them – which was especially hard at times. Especially when I thought you may have liked me too, but I wasn’t sure and I couldn’t face the possibility that my feelings weren’t reciprocated. So, I vowed to keep things platonic and I dated all kinds of girls so it would keep my mind off of you. Which was unsuccessful.”

  “Oliver-”

  “No. You don’t have to say anything. It’s just, I did my best to move on, to live my life and to keep my feelings to myself. The only reason I’m telling you now is because of the fight we had earlier.” I know he sees confusion on my face and his eyes soften. “Your potential choice to not get treatment for your cancer terrifies me to my core. I do not want to lose you. But, I’ve had a realization. How could I call you out on making a choice derived in fear when I’ve been doing the same thing for years? I refuse to be a hypocrite any longer.”

  I’m afraid to move or blink. I’m positive that if I do so I’m going to find out that this is all a dream. Oliver cups my cheek, brushes his thumb over my skin. “I’ll be honest. I want to ask you to choose me. To love me enough in return that you get treatment and we make a life together. I want to beg you to be with me, to let me love you and be loved by you. I want every single second with you that I can get, but the thing is, I love you too much to ask that of you. I love you enough to know that this isn’t a choice that you make for me or for anyone else. This is a personal choice that you have to make for yourself. I get that now. When you said that sometimes courage also means being strong enough to let go, it punched me in the stomach because that’s true too. I am so sorry for suggesting that choice is weak because it isn’t. I’m so sorry for yelling at you earlier – for saying the things I did about your mother and what she would think – I had no right. I was being selfish, terribly and unforgivably selfish. My frustration stems from my fear of losing you. It fucking terrifies me to imagine a world without you in it.”

  I’m quiet, my mind moving a million miles an hour. The silence stretches on and Oliver tries to be patient but I can see the anxiety sitting in his eyes.

  He finally whispers, “Say something. Anything. Please.”

  Clearing my throat, I take another moment to collect myself. “One summer it was really hot outside. You and I decided to go with our friends to the lake to cool off. Do you remember the rope swing that was there? The one that was on the hill above the lake?” He nods. “Everyone was swinging from it and taking turns jumping into the water. I was scared to try it. With zero upper body strength I was convinced I would fall awkwardly and make a fool of myself at a minimum, maybe even kill myself. I genuinely feared imminent death,” I tease and he laughs softly at my attempt at humor.

  “I confided in you with some embarrassment that I was afraid. You encouraged me to go for it anyway. You told me that great things happen on the other side of fear. That if I didn’t at least try, I’d miss out on something so simple yet fun. You told me that best friends don’t let best friends chicken out.” I clear my throat as I feel emotion begin to climb its way up. “I walked to the swing and I was sure that everyone could see that my knees were shaking and my hands were trembling. I grabbed hold of the rope and thought I would throw up. I looked down into the water and saw you.” I smile at the memory. “You were treading water right at the spot I’d jump in. You were silently telling me that you were there and you would have my back.”

  “Always. I’ll always have your back.”

  “I remember the wind in my hair, the feeling of the rope in my hands. I remember the smell on the air and the nerves knocking around in my stomach. Mostly though, I remember you. You telling me how proud you were of me after I jumped, you teasing me about the look of euphoria on my face as I did so. We laughed and you took my hand and pulled me to the swing to do it again.”

  “I remember that
day.”

  “When I look back on that day it isn’t overcoming my fear that I remember the most, although that certainly occurred with your support, but what stands out even more is that I fell in love with you that day.” I smile and his eyes widen. “I should say I feel in love with you again, because since the day we met I’ve spent various times through the years falling in love with you again and again.”

  He doesn’t respond with words, he responds with action. He cups my face, presses his forehead against mine. Then his lips find mine and he kisses me like he’s been waiting forever to do so. He kisses me like he couldn’t wait to get his lips on mine. I’m immediately lost in him until clarity somehow reappears and I pull away.

  Oliver’s displeasure at my distance is clear given the frown on his face, “I want to be with you, Remy,” he says softly. “I don’t want to waste any more time. And I know the future is uncertain. But no more now than it ever is; life does not provide any guarantees. But one thing is certain…I have the chance to love you now and I intend to do so.”

  “I want to be with you too. I’ve always wanted to be with you, but-”

  “No,” he shakes his head, “there’s no ‘but’. We both love each other and we’ve wasted too much time.”

  “I’m sorry, but there is.” I sit back and take a deep breath. “This isn’t fair to you. Allowing something, anything to happen when my future is so…” I shake my head, “It’s not right.”

  He takes my hands in his and smiles, but I can see the sadness in his eyes. “I’m going to state again that I want you to choose to talk to your doctor about options. To see what can be done, what the potential side effects are, what we’re looking at-” I start to interrupt and he squeezes my hands and shakes his head. “I know that you are very aware of the things you could potentially experience. I know that you know it better than anyone given what you’ve experienced with your mother, but I would like us to ask anyway because things for you may be different. But, here’s the thing. I love you enough to support you and be by your side no matter what you choose. Whichever decision you decide has to come from you. As your mother would say, you’ve got to determine the reasons for both options. You can’t base your decision on other people’s opinions and I’ll be honest, part of me wants you to do what I want you to do, but I love the person that you are and that means respecting your choices as well.”