Chapter 5
Iona ran into St. Francis Hospital and practically begged the baby faced woman at the information desk to tell her what room Cynda Williams was in.
“She’s in room 6021,” the clerk said.
Iona turned away from the woman and ran past the information desk. She jumped in the elevator, moved to the left to let a young all business, corporate-type couple in. She punched six. The man punched number four, then looked at his watch, the woman checked her BlackBerry. Iona had been moving on auto pilot since her father told her that her mother was in the hospital. Go online, order airline ticket, pack a bag, go to the airport, rent a car, and get to the hospital. She couldn’t tell one thing about anyone she’d come in contact with during the last twelve hours, and that wasn’t normal for her. She noticed everything about everybody. But she didn’t want to think about strangers today. Her mind was stuck on Cynda Williams; the woman who’d birthed her, smoked dope and prostituted her body until Iona was ten years old.
The elevator opened on the fourth floor and the corporate couple stepped out of the elevator. Iona moved to the middle of the elevator and prepared to get off herself. As the elevator opened and Iona stepped out and began looking for room 6021 she almost gagged at the smell of sickness that accosted her senses.
She passed room 6001 and watched as a group of nurses worked to resuscitate a patient. At that moment, Iona wished she hadn’t wasted so much time holding a grudge against her mother. To be quite honest, Iona had forgiven her mother for her drug usage and prostitution. It was what she had done once she’d given up drugs, married Keith and gave her life to the Lord, that Iona hadn’t been able to forgive her for.
As she turned the corner, moving away from room 6001 as fast as she could, she came face to face with the reasons she hadn’t been able to forgive her mother. Keith stepped out of room 6021 with her three younger brothers; Keith Jr., who was now fifteen, Joseph, thirteen and Caleb was ten.
Sometimes Iona admonished herself for being angry with her mother for getting married and having three more children. But dawg-gone it, she had been the one to suffer through her mother’s ten year span of drug addiction and everything else that came with it. When her mother finally got clean, Iona had still been left on the outside looking in. Yeah sure, the courts had taken Iona away from her mother and given custody to her father; essentially turning her into a summer and holiday visitor at her mother’s house, but it still burned Iona that these children never had to cope with a drug addicted mother. She might not be sharing her with drugs and pimps anymore, but she was sharing her with a bunch of men called brothers and a step father; and oh yeah, the other man in her mother’s life was God, and He took His share of her time as well. It just wasn’t fair.
Keith walked over to Iona and put his arms around her. “It’s good to see you, honey. I know Cynda will be real happy that you are here.”
He said it as though he hadn’t been sure that she would come, so she replied, “I wanted to be here.”
The boys ran up to her and started jumping on her. Where she was little sis to Donavan, she was big sis to this group. They clung to her. She closed her eyes wishing that she felt for them what they obviously felt for her.
“Okay guys, let your sister go. She needs to go see your mother.” Keith turned back to Iona and said, “I’m taking them to school. I’ll be back in a little while.”
“All right.” Iona pointed to Cynda’s door. “I need to get in there.” She walked past them and then hesitated at the door for a moment. She wanted to turn back to Keith and ask him what had happened to her mother. How could her beautiful, vibrant, laugh out loud mother be in a hospital where patients were being resuscitated? She took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. Her mother’s soft, tired voice bade her to come in. She opened the door wide and stepped in.
***
Just as Iona was opening a door that would forever change her world, so too was Isaac. He had received an email from Donavan. In the email, Donavan had asked to meet with him at his house. Donavan’s email stated that he wanted to discuss something that was critical to his future in the ministry. Isaac jumped in his midnight black Hummer and headed south to meet Donavan.
Isaac smiled every time he opened the door to this vehicle. Although the Hummer wasn’t his only car – he also had a silver Mercedes and Nina had a dark blue two-seater convertible Mercedes – the Hummer was by far his favorite. God had been good to Isaac over the years. He and Nina had followed God without wavering and the Lord had prospered them. Although Isaac did receive a modest income from the church, that paycheck did not pay for the upgraded lifestyle he and his wife now enjoyed. With the help of his wife, Isaac had written a series of New York Times Best Sellers that dealt with overcoming addictions and strongholds in life.
Isaac still marveled over the way in which God had chosen to use his life to inspire others to be overcomers. It was almost laughable when he thought about it. After all, Isaac had spent more than two decades of his life making sure that people became addicted to drugs. That was how he made his money. And now God chose to prosper his family with something Isaac would have gladly done for free.
He parked his Hummer in front of Donavan’s condo. Isaac thought it was strange that Donavan’s Oldsmobile was parked in his car port, but his email had indicated that Isaac should let himself in. Isaac and Nina had a key to both Donavan’s and Iona’s condos. They were constantly running errands for the kids and dropping things off to them. But Isaac didn’t like to just let himself in when they were at home. He wanted them to feel as if they were king and queen of their own domain; even if he was big Papa.
Isaac knocked on the door and waited about a minute. When Donavan didn’t answer, Isaac concluded that his son’s car was still acting up, so Donavan probably borrowed one of his friend’s cars to run his errands. He put the key in the lock and opened the front door. Before Isaac could step into Donavan’s living room, he heard the laughter and giggling – the voices of a happy man and woman, then his son came running into the living room with just a towel covering the lower half of his body. He had obviously just gotten out of the shower because his upper muscular half still had droplets of water on it. Running in behind him was Ms. Milner, the church secretary. The only thing she had on was the black and gray robe that Nina had given Donavan two Christmases ago. Her hair was wet as if just getting out of the shower also.
Isaac was too stunned to speak. The pair obviously hadn’t noticed him, because Ms. Milner tackled Donavan from behind and they both fell to the ground. Then Ms. Milner, sitting on top of Donavan said, “I’ve gotcha. Now what are you going to do about it?”
Donavan reached up and pulled her into an embrace. Isaac could take no more. This was his son rolling around on the floor, being very intimate with a woman that he was not married to. He had ordained his son into the ministry two years ago. Had given him an office at the church and hired him to preside over the children’s ministry. Donavan was serious about ministry. He loved the Lord. What had Iona called him, the golden child?
Isaac felt ill as he uttered, “Son!”
***
Cancer.
How could a beautiful woman like Cynda Williams not have a blemish on the outside but be tarnished inside? That’s what Iona wanted to know.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush, honey. The doctors don’t think I have much time left,” Cynda told her daughter.
Iona sat in the chair next to her mother’s hospital bed wondering if it was possible to feel pain that was deeper, more gut wrenching, than the one she was feeling right now. Tears rolled down her face as she opened her mouth to ask how, why, what would make something like this happen, but nothing would come out. Her chest began to heave as a flurry of tears drizzled down like a storm upon her face.
Cynda reached up and wiped the tears from Iona’s face. “No, baby, don’t cry like this. I’m okay, I really am. I don’t plan to die today, tomorrow or next year for that matter.”
Iona had last seen her mother two months ago. And though she’d thought her mother had dropped a few pounds, she was skeletal now. This sickness had drained the beauty from her face and taken the laughter out of her eyes. How could her mother think she wasn’t dying anytime soon when it was plain to see that she was wasting away?
Through blubbering lips, Iona said, “B-but Mama, you j-just told me that the doctors don’t think you have m-much time left.”
“Stop all that crying, Iona. I’m telling you I’m going to live.” Cynda lifted her head off the pillow to cough. Her body visibly shook from the effort of lifting up. When she laid back down and spoke again, her voice was hoarse and forced. “Now, whether my living is going to be done on earth or in heaven – God hasn’t given me all the details yet. But I have a strong feeling that my work on this earth isn’t done yet.” She gave Iona a weak smile. “Your mama will be around. And I would love for you to make more time for me.”
Iona had allowed herself to become so jealous over the time her mother spent with her brothers that she’d wished that Nina had been her only mother. But Cynda refused to be replaced no matter how much Iona pushed her away. After all the things her mother had done to her, once she made changes in her life, Iona was sure that Cynda would spend the rest of her life making everything up to her. But what did her mother go and do? Cynda had not one, not two, but three more children, a husband and a bunch of God obligations. And everything and everybody came before Iona. So Iona covered up her hurt with resentment, and as she got older and could make her own decisions, she spent less and less time with her mother.
Iona’s elbows were on her knees as she put her face in her hands and cried some more. How she wished she could turn back time. If she could, she would spend every waking moment finding out everything there was to know about her mother. “Oh God, give me back the last sixteen years of my life”, Iona wanted to scream. But would God listen to her?
“Mama,” Iona said when an idea struck her. She clutched the bed railing and said, “You talk to God all the time. Tell Him that you don’t want to die. Tell Him that I don’t want you to die.”
Cynda put her hand atop her daughter’s and patted it. “I have, baby. It’s in the master’s hands now. He won’t fail us whatever the outcome.”
Chapter 6
Iona spent the night in her mother’s hospital room. She pulled two chairs together and the nurse gave her a pillow and a blanket. The nurses normally didn’t allow visitors to spend the night, but Iona knew why the nurse let her do it; they thought her mother was dying.
It seemed that Cynda knew why they allowed the overnight visit also, and she wasn’t having it. When Keith came back to the hospital early Saturday morning, Cynda told him that she wanted to go home.
Keith stood at the side of his wife’s bed and brushed his hand along the side of her face as he said, “I don’t know, baby. Dr. Noelman wants you to stay here for observation.”
“Dr. Noelman has me on a death watch.” Cynda’s voice was weak but there was no missing the sound of determination as she told Keith, “I want to live. Take me home, husband.”
Iona watched as this six foot two, Arnold Schwarzenegger muscle built man’s chin began to quiver.
Cynda put her hand on his arm. “No tears, husband. I need you to believe with me.”
Keith nodded and headed toward the door.
Once his back was to Cynda, Iona saw him wipe his face. His shoulders slumped as he opened the door, but Iona knew that no matter how weary this whole situation had made Keith, he would not rest until Cynda was released from this hospital. It seemed to Iona that since the day Keith married her mother, he lived to do her bidding. Iona’s father was like that with Nina also. And she knew that Donavan would be the same way when he finally found his wife. She was surrounded by knights in shining armor – she just didn’t have one of her own.
“Iona,” Cynda called out to her daughter.
Iona stood up and walked over to her mother’s bed. She looked so frail, Iona ached just looking at her. She reached her arm over the bed rail and touched her mother’s hands. She felt the bones protruding upward. In recent years, her mother had weighed a healthy hundred and fifty pounds. Since she was five-seven, the extra weight didn’t make her look fat, just like a woman who’d borne four children and worked at keeping herself in shape. She was now about a hundred and fifteen pounds. Cynda looked like one of those anorexic runway models – like she was about to pass out at any moment from starvation.
“Yes, Mama?”
Cynda’s voice was low and ragged as she said, “The Lord has shown me what to do, baby. Don’t you worry, I’m going to live.”
Iona had stopped trusting God to handle the things that concerned her during her first year of law school. She had allowed a very persuasive law professor to put doubt in her mind about the omnipotence of God. How could God be in all places at all times? So she asked, “What can we do for you, Mama?”
Cynda smiled, her eyes weren’t focused on Iona though. They were looking heavenward as her body seemed to sink deeper into her hospital bed. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, I need to rest right now.”
Cynda napped for about two hours. Iona went down to the cafeteria to get her and Keith some lunch as he continued to work on getting Cynda released. By the time Iona had eaten her grilled chicken salad and purchased a cheeseburger and fries for Keith, her mom’s papers had been processed and she was released and ready to go.
Cynda slept peacefully in her own home Saturday evening. When everyone woke Sunday morning, Cynda told Keith to take the kids off to church so she could spend some time with Iona.
Keith let out the sofa bed in the family room and then carried Cynda in there. He scrambled some eggs and toasted a few slices of bread; took the plate in the family room with a glass of orange juice and asked his wife, “Do you need anything else, honey?”
She lovingly touched her husband’s hand as she said, “Can you bring me my Bible and the concordance?”
As Keith walked back to their bedroom to get Cynda’s Bible, Junior, Joseph and Caleb came over to Cynda carrying a large paper that the kids used in art class. Cynda smiled and said, “Hey, handsome,” to all three of them.
Junior told her, “Caleb and Joseph made something for you.”
Cynda tried to lift up, but wasn’t strong enough to do it. Iona was walking into the family room with a cup of coffee in her hand. Keith was also coming back into the room with Cynda’s Bible and concordance in his hand. Iona put her coffee down on the table next to the sofa bed and Keith put his stuff down as they both helped to pull her into a semi-sitting position.
Joseph showed Cynda the picture. It was of a woman dancing with her arms joyfully lifted up. “This is you, Mom.”
Cynda’s eyes misted. “I certainly have a lot of energy on that picture.”
“You used to always have a lot of energy, Mom,” Joseph told her.
“And I will again, Joseph. I promise,” Cynda told her son.
“So you’re not going to die?” ten year old Caleb blurted out.
“You know what?” Iona said as she took the picture out of the boy’s hands, “I’m going to help Mom hang this picture up. That might help her regain her strength, don’t you think?”
A big smile spread across Caleb’s face. “Yeah! Let’s hang it up.”
Cynda turned to Junior and asked, “Do you have any more of that art paper left?”
“Yes, ma’am, we have a bunch,” Junior answered.
“Can you bring it to me?” Cynda asked. Then as Junior started to walk away to get the paper she added, “Bring me some tape also.”
Joseph brought back the paper and tape. Keith kissed Cynda and then took his sons to church.
When they were alone, Iona asked Cynda what she wanted the art paper for.
Cynda said, “I’m going to live, Iona.”
In a reassuring tone, Iona said, “I know. You told me that yesterday.”
“I ne
ed your help. Can you look up the word ‘live’ in my concordance?”
Iona opened the concordance and search out the word live. “I’ve got it, now what?”
Cynda closed her eyes and shuddered for a moment. When she opened her eyes she began panting as she spoke. “I need you to find scriptures about living, rather than dying. I also want to look up scriptures on healing. When we find ones that we like, can you write them on the art paper and hang them all over this room. Don’t forget to hang that picture of me dancing.”
Iona did as her mother asked. She searched the concordance for phrases surrounding ‘live’ and ‘healed’ that might relate to Cynda’s situation. She found one in Psalm 118: 17 that read: I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.”
She read it to her mother and Cynda smiled. “Put that one on the art paper.”
Iona found a black marker in Joseph’s room and used it to write her first scripture. She put tape on all four sides of the paper and hung it above the TV straight in front of Cynda.
As Iona walked back to the Bible, concordance and art paper that she had sprawled on the floor Cynda asked, “Do you think Caleb will believe that I’m going to live when he reads that poster?”
“I certainly hope so. I thought you were going to break down when he asked you that.”
“Thanks for stepping in. I was a little dumbstruck.”
“Not a problem,” Iona said as she continued looking for scriptures. When she came across Ezekiel 37: 3-5 she said, “Listen to this Mom: And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live?.... Oh ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord: Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones; Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live.” Iona looked up from the Bible and asked, “Isn’t that how you feel right now? Like you’ve got dry bones?”
Cynda nodded.
“Then this is it. You’ve got to speak to your body and tell it to live. I’m going to put this one on a poster also,” Iona said and began to write. But a funny thing happened as she put the word of God on paper this time; Iona began to believe that this just might work.
Through the Storm Page 4
