A Love Story with a Little Heartbreak

by Thomas John Dunker

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Connie’s dedication to her rehabilitation continued through the winter. It was exhausting work—frustrating too—and it brought her to the brink of despair on many occasions. Her life was mostly about recovery, and her days were extremely repetitive. She exercised and exercised, following a rigorous routine where little or no progress was visible for achingly long periods of time. As many as three weeks would pass before she could register a milestone in the number of times she had lifted a weight or the amount of weight she had lifted. But progress was made, inch by painful inch, minute by painful minute.

  By the middle of March, 1948, her right leg had strengthened sufficiently that she could rise from her wheelchair and stand on it. In a standing position, she would bend the knee slightly, only for a moment or two, before standing tall again and testing its ability to support her weight. “Such a simple process, and it still hurts a lot,” she thought to herself. But despite considerable pain, she remained committed to The Plan. The right leg was definitely getting better. Would she ever be able to walk on it? She didn’t know, but she did know that the previous November she hadn’t even been able to stand on it.

  Progress on her left leg was a lot slower. The feeling had come back to some extent. The extensive numbness that she had lived with for so long had dissipated, but some areas were still numb, and she wasn’t close to being able to put all of her weight on it. Both legs, it seemed to her, hurt with the damp and cold weather. She assumed that all the steel pins in her pelvis and leg bones accounted for much of that discomfort. She thought that if only she knew how to interpret each bit of stiffness that came and went with the changes in the weather, she could forecast rain and snow and sleet. As it was, although she didn’t think she was clairvoyant, she could see a future of incessant aches and pains in her bones. Lately, she sensed more aches in her left leg than her right and wondered if that meant that the nerves in the left leg were repairing themselves. She thought about that for a while and concluded, “If that’s the case, then bring it on!”

  In the first days of April, her old friend Virginia Stranski popped in to say hi. In February, 1946, a month before Connie and Carl had gotten married, Virginia had married and moved to—where else?—Virginia! where her husband had some kind of secret job with the Navy out of Norfolk Navy Base. She was in Chilton for two days visiting her parents and was so excited to see Connie again. It was the first time they had seen each other since Connie’s wedding to Carl.

  Connie was slowly getting over her altered appearance, although this was probably the biggest adjustment in her quest to return to some kind of life she could feel good about. The person she saw in the mirror was a stranger to the memories of herself. Even so, she was thankful for the progress she had made with the cosmetic surgery to her face, although some pretty serious red lines still zigged across her cheeks. The area around her left eye was healing, although she didn’t think for a second that anyone would mistake her glass eye for a real one. It caused considerable discomfort and would, she was told, require more surgery in the orbital area in the years to come. It was one more change that she had to accept, along with so many others. Fixating on any one of her maladies was something she carefully avoided, but not easily.

  Connie’s weight had climbed back closer to normal, although she was still very thin. It was a big improvement over being emaciated, which was how she had looked the previous summer. Connie had made a lot of progress, and except for the wheelchair and the pain in her legs, she was pleased with her Personal Recovery Plan. If you asked her outright if it was working, she’d say yes! not that anyone knew she had a specific program in place, especially something she called her Personal Recovery Plan.

  Virginia stepped up to the porch on Main Street at about two o’clock that day. She stamped her feet free of some snow that was slow to melt with the encroaching spring, and then stepped right up to the front door and rang the bell. She remembered the sound of the simple four-note chime from having heard it hundreds of times in the past. The memory of it made her smile. She was so excited about seeing Connie and had heard enough about what Connie had gone through that she was sure she wouldn’t be shocked when she saw her. They had only spoken on the phone a couple of times over the last few years. Distance had taken its toll on the regular and frequent calls they had shared years ago. Both regretted that they had lost touch, but friendships like theirs were not easily displaced by time or distance.

  Ruby opened the door with a big smile on her face and greeted Virginia warmly. Behind Ruby, Virginia caught a glimpse of Connie in the wheelchair. Virginia paused long enough for a quick hug and a hello to Ruby and then went right to Connie. Ruby understood. The two girls, after all, had been best friends growing up and then rooming together at the University of Wisconsin in Madison.

  Virginia was shocked at Connie’s appearance and, for a fleeting moment, not even sure it was Connie in the wheelchair, so altered was Connie’s appearance from Virginia’s memories of the youthful and beautiful golden girl she had known all her life. Tears flooded Virginia’s eyes. She would have to pass them off as tears of joy over their reunion, but the crocodile-sized tears that ran down her face were all about sympathy. Virginia’s heart twisted and her stomach tightened up with such a wave of sorrow that, had she not hugged Connie immediately, she might have fallen to the floor on her knees. She closed her eyes and let the joy of their reunion overcome her sympathy for Connie, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with the happiness of being together again with her oldest and dearest friend.

  They had missed each other terribly and found it difficult to pull themselves apart. Penny joined in the exchange of the deep emotions of the moment, circling the wheelchair with two-legged hops and leaps, while simultaneously trying to get into Connie’s lap and getting a few good licks onto Virginia’s tearful face.

  “Penny! Down!” Connie commanded, to absolutely no effect.

  “Oh God, Connie,” Virginia was the first to speak, “I have missed you so much, and I don’t know how you made it through everything you went through… but you look wonderful to me!” And Virginia hugged Connie ferociously again, still bent over her, but now with a dog wedged in between the two of them.

  “Oh Virginia,” Connie stammered, so overwhelmed at seeing her old friend again and not realizing how much she had missed her. “Oh, Virginia,” Connie repeated, swallowing through her own strong emotions, “You look wonderful, and I have missed you so much!” Their emotions almost overwhelmed them. They would have to find more comfortable positions if they were to say anything else to each other.

  Ruby broke in, “Connie, you and Virginia should move into the living room. Let her make herself comfortable, and you two catch up there. Virginia, would you like some coffee or tea?” Ruby asked graciously.

  “Tea would be great, Ruby, thank you.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of Connie. “One sugar, no cream, please.”

  “And you, Connie?” Ruby asked, “the usual?”

  “Yes, Mama, thank you, maybe an extra sugar this time.” Ruby disappeared into the kitchen.

  Virginia flopped onto the old worn silk sofa in the living room following Ruby’s gesture to make herself comfortable. Connie rolled into the room right behind her and then parked her wheelchair so that she was face to face with Virginia when Virginia sat down. They both leaned forward and held onto each other’s hands and, for the next hour, caught up over tea in a flurry of conversation.

  It was a happy conversation, just as Connie had hoped for. Connie had been careful not to say anything that would trigger sympathy or sadness, although it had been clear to her that Virginia was shocked by her appearance. But what was one to do with that observation other than keep moving forward and getting on with life? She was determined to be upbeat, and the energy registered with her old friend as their conversation began to flow into laughter and giggles loud enough that Ruby could hear a new-found merriment coming out of the living room.

  About an hour lat
er, in the midst of their joyous reunion, Virginia shared her biggest news.

  “Connie. I didn’t tell you that John and I had been trying so hard since we got married to have a baby.” Connie went still with the introduction of this topic and actually held her breath to hear where Virginia’s opening was going. “Well,” Virginia continued, “we started to think I’d never get pregnant.” Virginia paused, and Connie’s eyebrows went up as if to say, “and?” Virginia leaned forward, whispering, as if a conspiracy were in the making, “We did it a lot, you know, every day, sometimes a couple of times a day.” She was blushing now.

  Connie burst out, “You’re pregnant!”

  “Yes!” Virginia almost squealed with delight, “I’m pregnant! Finally! I’m pregnant!” Virginia repeated jubilantly. The two friends reached out to each other and held hands again over the exciting news.

  “Mama,” Connie called out, directing her voice to the kitchen, “Virginia’s pregnant! Mama, did you hear that? Virginia’s pregnant!”

  Ruby appeared from around the corner just then with a tea pot of freshly brewed tea, the steam rising from the spout. “My oh my, Virginia! Isn’t that wonderful?” Ruby exclaimed, “How exciting!”

  “When’s the baby due?” Connie interjected. “You’re not even showing!”

  “It’s barely the third month, so in October, we think the 28th,” replied Virginia. All three women looked at each other and smiled. This was wonderful news, and it was evident from their expressions.

  “Oh Virginia,” Connie said, “I’m so happy for you and John.” And she was happy of course, but she also felt a huge pang of sadness with her recollection of Dr. von Hoerner’s words to her many months ago that made it clear she probably couldn’t have a child of her own and, if she did, it might be very risky, maybe even life-threatening.

  The two old friends visited for another half an hour before Virginia left. They wouldn’t see each other again during Virginia’s visit to Chilton that week, but they parted with a renewed commitment to do a better job of staying in touch.

  When Ruby and Connie heard Virginia’s car drive away, Ruby looked at Connie and saw the sadness in Connie’s eyes and knew exactly what was behind it.

  “Connie,” Ruby said, “as wonderful as Virginia’s news is, I know it was difficult to hear, honey. We can be happy for her and thankful for her good fortune. You have a wonderful friend in Virginia, and you two will always be friends and share in each other’s joys and sorrows. We can never be sure what the future has in store for us, Connie. And while I’ve always told you that life isn’t a bowl of cherries, that doesn’t mean there won’t be some wonderful surprises ahead.”

  “I know, Mama,” Connie responded a bit sullenly, “I know.”

  Ruby continued, “You’re going through a very difficult and trying time in your life, and you will get through this. Someday, you’ll look back and your life will be better and all of this will be nothing but a distant memory.”

  Ruby leaned over at this point and clasped Connie’s head between her loving hands and kissed her on both cheeks. “You know Henry and I love you very much, and so many other people do too. We’re all rooting for you.” Connie nodded but said nothing. “You’ll make it through all this, honey, and you’ll have a good life. Mark my words.”

  Ruby gathered up the empty tea cups and moved toward the kitchen, calling out to Connie, “Now why don’t you bundle up, take Penny out to the porch with you for some fresh air, and watch the sun melt the snow away before it gets dark.” As she entered the kitchen, she added, “I bet Penny wouldn’t mind fetching that old ball a little bit either!” Penny raced to the front door, perfectly aware that some good ol’ fetching was about to begin. “Fetch” was a word she knew, and it was one of her favorites, right up there with “cookie”!

  There’s nothing like a reunion between old friends. Anyone who’s been reunited with an old friend after having been separated for a long time knows how easy it is to pick up the relationship right where it left off, as if hardly a day had passed. That’s an amazing thing about friendships, and it’s a wonderful feeling that we can pick up where we left off. Of course, that’s just a feeling. The truth is that we don’t really pick up where we left off—not exactly—because life keeps moving forward and affects us in both expected and unexpected ways. We can never pick up exactly where we left off, but it’s a mighty good feeling to know that we can carry so much forward with us to make it seem that way.

  ∞