Chapter Nine
My hands nervously shook, so I let go of the purse that held the answer to my problems. I stared at my fingers that trembled uncontrollably. This had been thought-out and decided with absolute certainty, so why were the jitters in my stomach in competition with the tremors in my fingers?
“Oh God, I don’t want to do this,” I broke down and cried out to the One I had vehemently pushed away because He had allowed my daddy to die on that operating table all those years ago. “Oh God, I’m sorry …” I regretfully cried. “I-I really need you right now.”
Did He even want to hear anything I was saying? Had I pushed Him away one time too many? Was it too late for me with the way I had challenged Farrah and mocked her attempts to get me to see the light?
I dropped my face into the palms of my hands and stuttered, “I-I-I just want my son back.” My sobs grew heavier. “I can’t leave him, b-but I can’t live like this either.”
Take a deep breath, I told myself, you’ve got to calm down.
As my chest tightened, I pulled my purse back to me and in a frenzy searched for the bottle of Xanax I had brought to end my life, but now needed to calm my nerves. I combed through every compartment of that large purse only to find that it was gone.
“No, no, no!” I frantically turned the bag upside down.
My head snapped in several different directions, looking all around for the bottle of pills that I know I had placed inside my bag. I jumped up and retraced my steps as my boots burrowed into the sand with each stride. It was bad enough that I was prescribed an anti-anxiety drug, but if anyone found that suicide note attached to it I would never be able to live it down.
Last night, I had written a well-thought out good-bye note. It contained just enough information to let my family know that I loved them, but not too much where it may change my mind about leaving. When I placed it inside of a sandwich sized plastic bag and attached it to the prescription bottle where my name was printed, I didn’t want there to be any question as to how I had done it. I wanted them to know that I hadn’t endured any pain. Just that I had fallen asleep.
“Melinda!”
My chest heaved with heavy pants as I whipped my head in the direction of where my name was called. Instantly, my eyes locked with Vita’s.
“Melinda, are you okay,” she shouted, running towards me with something in her hand.
She must’ve found my bottle.
As she drew closer, my humiliation became greater. What would she think of me? What would she say? Would this get out and force my family to put me on suicide watch in a mental institution? How could I be so careless and botch the one thing that was supposed to take me out of my misery?
When Vita reached me, she was almost as out of breath as I was. I bent over and tried to slow my breathing. She extended a hand to me, but what she held wasn’t my bottle or my suicide note. It was her cell phone.
“What’s wrong? Do you need an ambulance?” she asked, but at the same time dialed for help.
When I looked past her in the direction of the water, my airway seemed to narrow and my chest tightened more like I was having a heart attack.
“Please hurry!” Vita shouted into the phone, and then turned to me. “Take slow breaths if you can.” She held my arm with her free hand while she gripped her phone with the other.
I tore my eyes away from the beach and doubled-over in pain. I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing as Vita had instructed. Over the next several minutes, it seemed to be working. I don’t know if it was because I was relieved that she didn’t know my secret like I had thought, or if it was because she had started praying aloud to God.
Moments later, the paramedics met us in the parking lot where a small crowd had gathered. In order to avoid being on the front page of the newspaper, I quickly declined treatment and sent them away. Slowly, the crowd dispersed and I stood shamefully at the back of my truck, attempting to explain to Vita what had just happened.
“It was a panic attack.” The expression on my face told her more than my words.
“You don’t owe me any explanation,” she quietly said. “I’m just glad that you’re okay.”
“Thank you for helping me.”
She shook her head and said, “Don’t thank me, thank God.” Vita’s bright eyes and heavenly glow chased every lingering dark thought away. “Do you know Him?” It sounded like a rhetorical question, but before I could respond either way, she said, “He knows you and He loves you, Melinda. The Heavenly Father will never leave you nor forsake you.”
This time when I heard those words, I believed them with complete confidence. Today, only moments before, I saw something that I had never seen before in my life. It was the kind of thing that would make people think a person’s really crazy if it were ever spoken out loud. But now that didn’t even matter to me. When I saw the sky open up over the waters as my chest tightened, my faith was restored. I saw the image of a Man with His arms extended towards me. It was like a misty vision similar to when I recalled being with my father and uncle out on that boat where we used to cast nets for shrimp, crabs, and fish, but this time I saw with my natural eyes. And immediately I heard Him say to me, “I will make you a fisher of men.”
I stared at Vita and nodded.
“Remember that He died so that you could live.” Vita smiled and then hugged me the way I had wanted my mother to hug me when I had found out about Kevin and Lisa’s new pregnancy. The type of hug Charlotte had embraced me with right after I had lost my job. The kind of hug Farrah offered when I was at the hospital, waiting for a social worker to tell me the fate of where my son would spend the night. The compassionate hold I needed when I decided that death was the only way out of my situation.
“Do you receive Him, Melinda?” Vita’s beautiful smile was contagious. “Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?”
At this point, it was a no-brainer for me. He had done more for me on that cross so many centuries ago than anyone would ever be able to. I squeezed Vita’s hand in between mine, raised my face to Heaven with closed eyes, and answered, “Yes.”
When I opened my eyes again, Vita was gone. I stared at my hands that were clasped together with one another. I widened my eyes and looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. In searching for her, I found my bottle of sedatives on the ground near my back tire. I picked it up with the clear plastic bag that still contained my suicide note and shook my head. It must’ve fallen out of my bag when I sat it down to get my boots out of the trunk of my truck. Come to think of it, that was just at the time I had met Vita.
It was then that I knew God had sent an angel, specifically for the purpose of watching over me.
Once Upon a Sunday Page 9