Pleasant Plumeria #11

Hard to breathe. Cotton everywhere—my mouth, my nose, my lungs, my eyes…my mind. What day? Yesterday was…bad. Yesterday was lonely and strange and long. Longer than the day before, but then, all the days seem longer now. If only I could make some sense of it, get things clear. So hungry, but food makes it worse. Swallowing takes too long, then there’s no more air. Then the coughing, then the pain, then the blackouts. When did this become my life?

* * *

Nina woke slowly, gradually surfacing from the depths of her sleep. She stretched, yawned, and glanced over at her bedside clock. Five thirty in the morning. This was a record for the week. Grateful that her thoughts had finally subsided enough to let her exhausted body rest, Nina peeled back her blankets and swung her legs to the floor. She kneaded her sore muscles, massaging her own neck and lower back before standing up and padding to the bathroom. Careful not to wake her sleeping family, she closed the door with a muted snap and sat down on the toilet. Another day had begun.

* * *

Everything is so foggy now, it’s all I can do to make sense of the clock. Five thirty? Is it morning or night? I can’t move my shoulders, they’re useless. This whole body has failed me, I can’t even look out the window anymore. Where’s Haywood? Why isn’t someone here to explain, to lift the fog and remove the cotton and make sense of it all? Where did my Haywood go?

* * *

As the coffee began splashing down into the pot, Nina pulled a banana off of the bunch on the counter. She stared down at it absently, wondering how it could still be so bright when everything else was so grey. Maybe eating it would help. Maybe somehow all the light and color of the banana would leach into her, bring back her smile, help her feel something—anything—other than helplessness.

* * *

“H-H-…Hay!” I’m wheezing, but I hear myself. Can I do it again without coughing? Are there enough breaths left to try one more time? “H—“ Oh no… I never imagined this kind of pain. I never imagined the red hot searing of my lungs being ripped apart by cancer. Cancer. Such a strange concept. Not something I ever learned much about, and now that I have so much of it, I can’t understand it anyway. All I picture are invaders, green and evil, pillaging my body. And they’re winning.

* * *

Nina stepped out into the early summer morning. The air still had bite, and there was mist hanging in the grass. Luckily the walk was short and the flagstones in the garden clearly marked her path. Slipping though the gate in the old wooden fence, Nina entered her parents’ backyard and headed for the sliding glass door. As she plodded along, she caught herself in the reflection. Bags, purple and angry, drooped from beneath her eyes. Her pallor was grey and sickly, and her unwashed hair hung in limp strings from her hastily tied ponytail. Swallowing thickly, she looked away and opened the door.

* * *

Mean, spiteful invaders. Tearing at my chest, tunneling holes in my memory, and laying siege to my brain. All I want to know is where-- “Hay!” The pain is excruciating, but I’ll bear it. I’ll bear it for Haywood, because he’s at the back door and he needs to know where I am. The only way he can help me is if he can find me. “Hay!”

* * *

Unaccustomed to voices in her parents’ home, Nina slid the door shut quickly and hurried to the family room. Something wasn’t right. Her mother was ailing—dying—and she hadn’t spoken in weeks. The cancer that had manifested itself in her lungs had metastasized throughout her body, finally taking root in her brain. No one had even thought there were words left for her to express. When Nina saw her mother it became clear that something had shifted. Her usually vacant eyes were now glassy and dilated. Her labored breathing was rapid and frequent, more so than it had been in recent days. But most of all, it was her face that had changed. No longer lank and expressionless, she had a look of pure pleasure, exaltation, plastered against her features.

* * *

Haywood, you came! You came back! I heard you at the door and now you’re here and you didn’t leave me after all. Why did you stay away so long? They told me you weren’t coming back from that hospital, but I knew better. I knew you wouldn’t leave me. Are we going somewhere together? But I haven’t done my hair. And these clothes, not really fit for traveling. Oh, you charmer, you always knew just what to say. Alright, let’s go then. Where are we heading, is it far? Not too long? Promise it won’t be frightening? I know, you’ll be there with me, but it’s just the change. Change is hard for an old bird like me. But you’re right dear, of course. Anything would be better than staying in that old chair. Let’s go Haywood, I’m ready.

* * *

Nina knelt by her mother’s side as her breathing slowed. Although she had known this moment was coming, had become unavoidable, she was still somehow unprepared. She grasped her mother’s frail hand and felt her papery skin, cool to the touch. Even though it was for the best, Nina felt hot tears spill down her cheeks—the first tears she had shed—as she quietly said goodbye to the woman who had given her life, love, and happiness. Closing her eyes briefly to staunch the tears, Nina heard a faint whisper: “Haywood, I’m ready.” Eyes still closed, she smiled, buoyed by the knowledge that her mother and father were finally reunited. Finally at peace.

I love you Grandma.