by Candis Vargo
She sat back and wiped away her tears. “Now don’t you go calling me grandma yet, you hear?”
That was my mom. Always trying to stay strong and make light of every situation. She could try to hide it all she wanted, but I knew that when she couldn’t take anymore, she would go somewhere to be alone, and that’s when she would break down and cry.
When I left the hospital, I had quite a few more bruises, and they were horrible to look at. I didn’t want people to see me all bruised like that, so I did my best to cover myself up even though it was warm outside. Since Dr. Lynn had said she wanted me to take it as easy as possible, my mom wouldn’t leave me alone for a minute during the day unless it was to use the bathroom. Even then, she waited outside of the bathroom. To be fair, Dr. Lynn did say she wanted me to rest as much as I could. She didn’t put me on bed rest, per se, but I wasn’t allowed to do daily chores like laundry or dishes, and I had to stay off of the stairs as much as possible. She even suggested a wheelchair.
Seriously. Me? A wheelchair?
At least that was a suggestion. I had no choice but to take an oxygen tank with me. I didn’t have to use it all the time, but she did want me to use it whenever I was going to use stairs or do a lot of walking. Just great.
It felt like all of that killed me inside. I wasn’t dead yet so why did I have to act it?
What was the point of living if you weren’t actually living? I didn’t want Joel to know how to live without me until I was actually gone.
My mom was doing the majority of the work around the house, including the cooking. They didn’t know that sometimes, late at night, I would sneak downstairs and make up a batch of my cookies and put it in the back of the freezer. I wasn’t about to give that up. But do you know what I hated most? I hated the look in people’s eyes after I told them. Not the look they immediately have, but the look that lingers…no matter how much they try to hide it, whenever someone’s talking to you, you can see it. It’s like they never look at you the same again.
It didn’t take Joel long to get the room ready, so in two days’ time, my parents were staying in our home. It was nice having them around so much, but I could feel my independence slowly slipping away.
My dad’s money had gone into his account within a few days, and he went out and bought a bunch of tools. I wasn’t sure why, though. He spent a lot of time outside using those tools so I thought that maybe he needed to keep himself busy, and for that, I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t mind either. I didn’t want him around me preaching to me about how I needed to have an abortion.
I used to look up to him. I remember being able to see the look of pride in his eyes when he looked at me. There was a certain smile within them that anyone could see. Now…now I don’t even know what I’d call the look in his eyes, but it tore my heart out. My mom tried to tell me to give him time, that’d he’d come around. How much time did he need? Because I didn’t have all the time in the world. If he couldn’t come to terms with it soon, he might never get the chance.
I knew I was being just as stubborn as him. I couldn’t bring myself to speak to him, though, because every time I was near him all I could hear was the sound of him telling me to have an abortion. I know that everyone had their own opinion on what I should do or what they would do, but the truth was unless they were in this particular situation and had to make this choice for themselves, they honestly didn’t know.
Some women could handle having an abortion. That was their business. But, me? I couldn’t. Every time I held my belly, I saw Amelia Rose, not some possible baby. We were all different. We all felt differently about different things, some more strongly than others. But that’s what makes us human, isn’t it?
Anyway, my mom took it upon herself to get me a wheelchair. It wasn’t a brand new one, but it was still nice, nonetheless. Well, as nice as a wheelchair could be. I hated the thought of it but at least when I was using it I had a little of my independence back. I could take myself to the bathroom again. Something so simple, but necessary.
Joel had started to bring me a single daisy, every day. It wasn’t a daisy you would buy at a florist; it was one he stopped along the side of the road to pick and brought it home to me. Every day when he got home from work he handed me the daisy and said, “Hi beautiful” as he gave me a kiss. That, truly, was the sweetest thing he could do. As simple as it was, it meant the world to me.
It seemed like once in a while inspiration would strike me, and I would know what I wanted to say to Amelia nearly instantly. I think it was because I wanted to leave behind meaningful things, not just me talking nonsense. Anyway, I suddenly knew what I wanted to say to her, so I wheeled myself into the office. I had to turn on the camera before I got in front of it and I really hoped Joel was serious about the editing program. I kind of hoped he’d be able to edit those moments out of the videos. Once I was positioned right, this is what I said in the video:
“Hi, Sweetheart. If there’s one thing of mine, I don’t want you to have, that’s my clumsiness. Thanks to a little tumble that I took, I’m now confined to a wheelchair for the most part. Anyway, your Grandma and Grandpa are here now, and that’s exciting. They’re helping us out with a lot around here as we get ready for you…anyway, that’s not what I wanted to record today. Let’s see…let’s say today is your graduation day.
“Well, I’m going to start with congratulations. I’m so proud of you! All of your hard work paid off, and you’ve officially graduated, how exciting. Go out and celebrate! But remember, if you celebrate with alcohol and you get drunk, call your dad. He will come and get you, that’s a promise. What else? Hmm…well, my suggestion is, take a year off.
“Yeah I’m sure that sounds crazy, and a lot of people will think you’re crazy for doing it, but I’m telling you, sweetie, take a year off. Just one year. Use that year and travel. Work odd jobs wherever you end up if you have to, just long enough to get you to the next stop. If you don’t, you will regret it, and if you do, you will love it. You never know who you’ll meet or where you’ll want to stay. Just make sure you keep in touch with your dad…
“For college, your dad might not like me saying this, but if you can, study abroad. Think of all the other experiences you’ll get to have and the new people you’ll get to meet. I always wanted to go to Ireland. I don’t know why but there just seemed to be something magical about that place.
“Don’t rush your future, and make sure that whatever you’re doing, you’re chasing your dreams. Because if you don’t chase your dreams, then no one will. To try and fail is better than not trying at all…I’m not saying you’re going to fail, don’t get me wrong. I’m just saying you better try. When we look back on our life we remember the person who we liked but we never told them, the chances we had to do something absolutely crazy, but we didn’t. Don’t let that happen to you.
“Now, if you do take my advice and take a year off or study abroad, don’t get wooed by the accents. As a woman, I know firsthand how attractive those accents can be…I don’t know what it is about them…combine a man in uniform with an accent and that’s double trouble…oh, my!
“Anyway! Let’s not do that. But, experience all the world has to offer. And definitely keep in touch with your dad. I’m sure he’s overprotective, and at graduation night he’s going to cry like a baby—don’t tell him I said that—but he loves you more than anything and parents worry because we care. I love you, sweetheart. Go wherever your heart takes you. I’m proud of you. Never forget that.”
CHAPTER SIX
I knew my mom and Beth were up to something, and I should have known what it was, but I was too busy making plans of my own. Since we’d found out about the leukemia, I’d been quietly setting money aside each paycheck so I could make my final arrangements.
I didn’t want Joel, or my mom or dad to have to make the decisions in that moment. If they were all butting heads now, I could only imagine how it would be when it came to deciding on my funeral. Plus, I knew that when the ti
me came, they’d be going through enough and their emotions was going to be all over the place. They’d be happy that little Amelia Rose was brought into the world, but at the same time, they’d be hurting from losing me.
This was something I could control. This was something I could do to help save them from experiencing any more pain than what they were already going to be going through, so I didn’t let anyone know what I was doing.
I tried to find a legitimate website to make my arrangements, but I didn’t trust any of the ones I found. They all looked like scams to me. If any of them were legitimate, then they needed a new website designer. The closest I was able to come to taking care of my last wishes online was through email. I had called a local cemetery and talked to a lady named Clary, who was extremely nice and understanding. She confirmed my fears that life insurance wouldn’t be available to cover my funeral costs. Apparently, in most cases, the funeral arrangements had to be made within days of death, and life insurance wouldn’t arrive for a month or more. Knowing I would be dying of leukemia put me in the ‘most cases’ category.
She was kind enough to send me pictures and prices of everything through my email, and once I made my choices, I could pay for it over the phone. I didn’t understand how there were so many different styles of caskets and how it mattered how soft the inside of it was. I would be dead…would it really matter if my pillow was a brick? But, I guess it did matter to some people. They had elaborate caskets with roses engraved in them with bronze or gold handles that the pallbearers would use, and they had ones as plain as you could get. Some had more padding than a pillow-top mattress and others had just a lining.
I kept it simple. I chose a dark oak casket with a thin, white lining and the standard silver handles. If you thought that’s all you needed to do for your funeral, you’re wrong.
I also had to pick a vault, which is apparently what the casket sits in. It’s not enough to just bury you, now they want to seal you in a vault in the ground. Did it really matter how fancy the damn vault was? It’s a cement square I’d be sealed in, so I chose the cheapest one, which was nearly a thousand dollars on its own.
Then I had to buy a burial plot. The more I had to do for my own funeral, the more I was glad that I was doing it and not my husband. He would be too distraught to be able to get through it.
I had the option to purchase two burial plots, so when my husband passed away, he could be buried beside me. At first, I thought it sounded like a good idea, but then I realized that he would probably remarry after my passing. I couldn’t blame him. We weren’t even thirty, and I hoped he would be able to find love again. That’d be much better than dying alone…
So I wasn’t sure if he would want to be buried next to his possible future wife, or me. I decided not to get a double burial plot and just bought one that was out in the open. A lone grave in the midst of the vast land…that way Joel would be able to decide on his own.
With the price of everything, I would have just opted to be cremated if I knew Joel would be okay with that, but I knew him, and I knew he would want to be there and watch me as I was put into the ground. Can’t blame him, really.
After all of that, I still had to turn around and make arrangements with the funeral home. Did you know that ninetynine percent of the time that the casket used during the viewing at the funeral home is a ‘universal’ casket? Which basically means that it’s borrowed… that several dead people have laid in it. Oh, and paying nearly one hundred dollars for your body to be taken from the hospital morgue to the funeral home? And I thought living was expensive…
I used what money I had saved up along with some of the money from our savings. I figured I could at least let Joel pick out the stone since that’s what he would have to see every time he’d visit. As depressing as it may be, it all needed to be done. I just wanted to take the more realistic road and do it now since I knew it was coming quickly.
Now, back to what my mom and Beth were planning…
It wasn’t that often that I got out of the house those days, especially in my condition. Most of the time people looked at me, a pregnant woman in a wheelchair, and thought I was just lazy. At least that’s what it seemed like. Anyway, Beth asked if I would like to get out of the house and go shopping for a little while. Since shopping was one of my favorite pastimes, I said yes and she took me to the local flea market.
As I wheeled my way through there, I thought about how once I would have bought so much junk that I thought was important. It’s amazing how when you realize you’re dying, so many things lose their value to you while so many more gain value. The material things just didn’t matter anymore; the most important things in life couldn’t be bought with money.
Instead of looking for things I would like, I decided to look for things for Amelia. I came across the most beautiful butterfly wind chime. It was broken so it didn’t make noise anymore but it was large and had six bright, beautiful butterflies hanging down.
“That’s gorgeous,” Beth said.
“Yeah…” I just smiled as I examined it.
“What are you thinking?”
“I think this would make an amazing mobile to hang above the crib. What do you think?” I held it up to her.
She looked it over the same way I did and said, “It’s perfect.”
It was twenty dollars, but it was worth that and then some. I handed the gentleman who sat behind the table a twenty, and he looked at me and smiled. Though his teeth were decaying, there was something beautiful behind that smile.
“I’ve been waiting for the right person to get that,” he said. Beth and I looked at each other, not knowing what he meant.
“I’m sorry…what?” Beth asked.
“I have these to go along with that. If you want them, that is.” He set a box on the table, but the level I was sitting at was too low to see what was in it, so I stood up, Beth holding my arm for support. The box held a dozen multicolored butterflies, of all different sizes, as bright and beautiful as the ones on the wind chime. They were made out of stained glass and wire; each butterfly had to have been handmade. I had never seen something so beautiful.
“How much?” I asked. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the butterflies in Amelia’s room the moment I saw them.
“For you, my dear? Nothing. They come with the wind chime.”
“I can’t accept that,” I said as I sat back down, trying to catch my breath. “You must want something for them.”
“I do,” he said. “I want you to let your precious baby watch the light shine through them. That’s all that I ask…”
I thought for a moment on if I should offer him money again and tell him I couldn’t keep that promise, but I knew he wouldn’t take any more than the twenty for the wind chime. Instead of telling him how I couldn’t keep the promise, I said I would do my best to try and make sure my baby could see that. We put the wind chime in the box with the other butterflies and Beth pushed me so I could hold on to the box.
“She will,” Beth said as she pushed me away from the table.
“What?”
“She will see it. Amelia. I promise you, she will see the light shine through them.”
I was at a loss for words. I knew Beth would keep her promise and I knew that she would be there for Amelia for anything that she needed. She would be there for Joel and Amelia, and that meant the world to me.
Just then, a little girl strayed from her mom in the parking lot, and she ran up to me.
“Are you in that because you have a baby in your belly like my mommy?” She couldn’t have been more than four or five.
Her mother came over quickly to try and hush her, and I saw that she was about as far along in her pregnancy as I was.
“No, it’s okay,” I said.
The mom smiled softly as she
whispered, “sorry.”
“No sweetie, I’m not in this chair because I have a baby in my belly.”
“Then, why?” She was genuinely curious.
>
“Well, you see, I’m sick. I have something called cancer, and it makes me really weak.”
I heard the mom gasp, and I tried to ignore the sympathy in her eyes.
“But, if you have cancer then why do you still have your hair?” she reached up and ran her little fingers through the strands of my hair. “I’ve seen people with cancer and those people don’t have any hair.”
“Because, sweetie, cancer doesn’t make you lose your hair. It’s the medicine they give you for the cancer that makes you lose it.”
“So you’re not taking the medicine?”
Her mom grabbed her hand and tried to move her along. “Come on Jamie, let’s leave her alone now.”
“But, why isn’t she taking the medicine, Mommy?” she looked up at her mom before looking back to me. “Why aren’t you taking the medicine?”
“Well, because I have a little girl in my belly that I need to keep safe. That’s what us mommies do, we do whatever it takes to make sure our babies are okay. Like, I bet if you fall off your bike that your mommy comes up and takes care of your boo boo’s, right?”
She nodded in response.
“And I bet she tells you to wear a helmet when you do ride your bike…” She nodded again.
“Well, she tells you to wear the helmet because she’s trying to make sure that you’re as safe as you can be on that bike, so you don’t hurt your head if you fall. That’s kind of the same thing that I’m doing. I’m making sure my baby is okay and trying to
keep her from getting hurt.”
“But what about you?”
I smiled softly, “I’ll be just fine. Don’t you worry.”
I looked up at her mom and tears were in her eyes as she mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’ again. I told her that it was okay, and she wrapped her free hand protectively around her belly. I could tell that she knew what was going to happen to me, but that didn’t stop me from smiling. I knew someday my little girl would be just as curious as that one, and I thought it was sweet. When we got in the car, I noticed that Beth was starting to tear up again.
