"Jane"
A tear slipped from his eye as he took her frail hand. He would have given anything if she would have opened her eyes at that moment. Those eyes had watched him grow up, watched him fall, then the hands had lifted him up. He gripped her fingers with both of his hands, wishing that he could will his life into her motionless form. Why you? I still needed you. Why did you leave me? The words echoed in his head.
The warmth remaining in her flesh was deceiving him into denying that she wasn’t really gone. The doctors had sedated her; she was just unconscious... yet in his heart he knew the truth. She wasn’t ever going to open her eyes again. She would never watch his baby brother grow up as she’d watched him, and his sisters and brothers.
He couldn’t take it anymore. This shouldn’t have happened now. Yes, she was old; yes, she’d lived her life. Yes, she was now no longer in any of the pain that had been almost unbearable every moment of her last several months. Everything that could have been done was done. But it wasn’t enough. She was still gone. It hadn’t been enough. All the treatments, the surgeries, the suffering, none of it helped her any. And now she was gone forever. It wasn’t fair. He loved her; why did she have to leave him right when he needed her most? Her daughter, his mother, had just recently given birth to her sixth child, and their dad would be busy with her, and the baby, and their two little sisters, who still needed to be looked after. She was the only one who could or would have had the time for him.
His brothers felt the same way. Why did this have to happen this way? They all missed her so terribly already. What would they do without her? How could life go on?
What kind of a world is it when a thirteen-year-old must become a man overnight, and look after his eleven- and eight-year-old brothers? What kind of world is it where someone who has done no wrong should suffer and die needlessly? It didn’t make any sense. He wanted to lash out, scream, cry, break something, make someone hurt as much as he did. It wasn’t fair!
But he couldn’t do that. His family was depending on him to take charge of himself and his siblings, and keep life going on. Their parents were busy with the baby. ...At least she’d gotten to see him once...
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Thinking hurt too much. He didn’t want to think about how she would never watch little Mackie grow up, as she had him. He was not yet entirely grown up, but he would have to be now. This newly added weight on his shoulders made the grief even more difficult to bear. This had to be the most horrible experience of his life.
He fought the tears that were burning in his eyes; he had to be strong, for his brothers’ sake. They needed someone to depend on, in her place. She had meant the world to all of them, especially when their parents were busy with their six- and three-year-old sisters and now their new brother. But she was gone now; they’d forever lost her to cancer.
He could see that eight-year-old Zachary was hit hardest by this; hers was the first death he had ever experienced, and she had been especially dear to him. As the middle child, Zachary had often gone to her for advice or consolation. Now resting her lifeless fingers on the cool, white sheet, he walked around to the opposite side of the bed, and placed one hand on Zachary’s quaking shoulder and the other on that of their brother, Taylor. "Let’s go," he whispered hoarsely. Their father would be waiting for them, and wouldn’t want to be away from his wife and infant son for long.
The nights had never been so long. They seemed never to end anymore, as he spent countless hours staring at the dark ceiling. As he lay completely still, willing himself to sleep, he heard a subtle but pronounced sound from the bunk below him. Sliding carefully from his bed, he crouched beside his brothers, huddled on the lower bunk, crying softly. Finally allowing himself to be relieved of his pent-up emotion, he joined them; the three were united in their grief. He looked up, startled, when the door to their room opened slowly and silently, and squinted as a shaft of light from the hallway crossed his face. The silhouette in the doorway was small in stature; and their six-year-old sister shuffled slowly towards them.
"I can’t sleep," she whimpered, her chin trembling. "I miss Grandma. I don’t want her to go away to Heaven. I want her to be here with us." A lone tear trickled down her cheek.
"I know you do, Jessie," Zachary responded. He opened his arms to her. "Come here." She willingly joined her brothers, where the now four of them cried together and shared the memories of the woman they so greatly missed. He took Jessica into his lap and rocked her while she cried, clinging to Zachary’s hand. Taylor, sitting on Zachary’s other side, was so frustrated with circumstance that he began to pound his pillow with both fists. Taylor’s sister and brothers watched helplessly, not knowing what to do for him. When Taylor seemed about to collapse, his elder brother transferred Jessica from his own lap to Zachary’s and wrapped his arms around Taylor in a bear-hug. Still vehement, Taylor struggled against his much stronger grip, until collapsing, weary and spent, in his brother’s arms.
There was no shame amongst the four siblings as they sat that way, now silent in the dark. Ever so softly, the brothers began to sing, their voices blending harmonically despite the tremor. "If I’m gone when you wake up / Please don’t cry / And if I’m gone when you wake up / Please don’t sigh..." Their song, lonely and mournful, yet beautiful, soft, and tender, drifted to their parents’ room, where their mother wept in her husband’s arms. She mourned as much for her sons and daughters as for herself. "Don’t look back on this time / As a time of heartbreak and distress / Remember me, remember me / ‘Cause I’ll be with you in your dreams..."
The song was one unfamiliar to her ears, yet she recognized the craftsmanship. She rightly guessed that the song had been penned that afternoon; her three eldest children were very obviously gifted, as was their father, when it came to songwriting. "Don’t cry I’m with you / Don’t sigh I’m by your side / Don’t cry I’m with you / Don’t sigh I’m by your side..."
The tear-filled strains that now grew stronger had been composed at the boys’ grandmother’s bedside in her final moments. Beautiful in its simplicity, the song was the pledge she had made to them, just before leaving them all. Not a word had been verbalized between Jane and her grandsons. The bond between and among them had always been so strong that words were oftentimes not necessary. "And though my flesh is gone / I’ll still be with you at all times / And though my body is gone / I’ll be there to comfort you at all times…"
Though it had begun as the most affected by grief, young Taylor’s voice broke through clearly to lead the melody; his brothers joined him, as they sang a whimpering Jessica to sleep, and unknowingly comforted their mother, as well, with these words: "I don’t want you to cry and weep / I want you to go on, living your life / I’m not sleeping an endless sleep / ‘Cause in your heart you have all of our good times…"
A calming peace began to settle over them all. Jane would never truly be gone; she would live on forever in their hearts and memories and dreams. As long as they loved her, she would never be entirely dead. And with the greatness of the love they had for her, she would live forever. "If I’m gone when you wake up / Please don’t cry / And if I’m gone when you wake up / Please don’t sigh / Don’t look back on this time / As a time of heartbreak and distress / Remember me, remember me / ‘Cause I’ll be with you in your dreams…"
The impact of the words was not lost on him, either. She really won’t leave me ever, he thought. Her promise was right. Still with his arm around Taylor’s shoulders, he sang with renewed strength and assurance. Yes, they would miss her. But she would always be with them, in their hearts and dreams. As their eyes met through their tears, the three brothers knew that no matter what song they wrote for whom, no promise would mean as much as this one. "I’ll be with you / I’ll be with you in your dreams / I’ll be with you in your dreams…"
© 1999-2001 Quixotic Ink