I cry through every scan.
The last several tests have delivered the best kind of news, but still, hot tears trail my face through the sting of the needle, the careful touch of the technicians, the whirring and clanging of the pristine tube, then the pleasant robot woman’s voice: “Hold your breath . . . breathe.”
I breathe.
Clara comes home red-eyed with a yearbook full of signatures. It’s almost the last day of junior high, and she has inherited my sentimentality. It’s been a difficult year, but today, many teachers are cherished and just-classmates are friends. I read her a text I received from her favorite teacher, and my voice is suddenly gone. We sit on the couch, my arm over her shoulders, paging through her eighth-grade memories and laughing with a box of tissues nearby.
Every day, I gag down five rough and chalky horse pills. Three in the morning and two at night. Sometimes they get stuck or come back up. I dread the ordeal and despise the way they make me feel. They are saving my life.
Jacob lies next to me on my bed at night and talks about his future. He’s almost a high school senior. He has plans, and stressors, and everything he needs to become the best kind of man. He shares with me the outcome of his tennis match, careers he’s been considering, the details of his recent dance date, and his thoughts about why people turn out to be certain ways. I tell him he makes me proud.
My heart feels strange. The MRI reported that it functions just fine, but it seems to carry me weakly through my days. I give it the deference it deserves, but I long to feel its strength again. A strength I never noticed before.
Ellie came home from college for a few days. The mood of the whole house is lighter. She has grown so much, learning to live on her own with bravery and her characteristic brand of stoicism. But she likes it here. We like her here. We gather in the living room after dinner.
I’m in a happy, hazy state, absorbing the scent of lilacs through the open window as I rest my head against the back of the couch. The kids lend their harmonies to our familiar Beatles playlist. Time stands still; their voices are easy, unbothered.
I want her everywhere
And if she’s beside me
I know I need never care
But to love her is to need her everywhere
Knowing that love is to share
Each one believing that love never dies
Watching her eyes
and hoping I’m always there
I will be there
And everywhere
Here, there, and everywhere
My heart feels strange. And full of everything.
