Love After Pain

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Love After Pain Page 7

by Torrie Robles


  “Wow, big brother, I’m proud of you. It’s good to see you like this.”

  “It’s time that I accept what’s happened. I need to accept what my life has become, what it will never be again, and it’s time that I make my kids happy. They are what’s important. I think I’ve been selfish long enough.”

  14

  David

  Looking down at my son while he sleeps in his crib is probably one of the only things that’s keeping me sane right now. My mom brought the kids home and with that all of our things. I didn’t expect her to pack all the clothes, toys and everything we’ve accumulated over the past five months and bring them over along with the kids. I could have done it, I could have slowly packed everything up and brought it over, but I knew my mom was trying to help. Like Olivia, she just made me face the fact that I decided it was time to come home and she ensured I didn’t have an excuse to go back on that decision.

  So what if I had already thought about taking a drive over there tonight. To explain I just needed to grab something; and then let on that I was too tired to head home and thought it would be best for me and the kids to stay just one more night with my parents. I guess it doesn’t matter how old you get, your parents will always know how you work. That woman is a sneaky little bugger.

  Much to my displeasure, I did have visitors while my mom and myself hauled everything into the house. A few neighbors came over giving me their condolences and telling me they will be by later this week with food. I didn’t need or want their food. I didn’t need to drag the death of my wife out any longer. That was my point on moving home, to move forward and not to continue to live in a pattern that was based on Kate’s death. Thankfully my mother, once again, knew me so well that she not so subtly asked my neighbors to keep their food and take it where it’s needed, like the local homeless shelter and not to my house because and her words, not mine, ‘My son does not need handouts, he needs hand-ups to the Lord to pray that he has the strength he needs to get through this time. He knows how to cook, I’m his mother after all.’ I think the phone lines in the neighborhood lit up like a wildfire because no one else tried to come over after that. I wonder what Kate would have said after witnessing such a scene. She would probably just have laughed and said something about my mother telling them what needed to be said.

  While my mother and I brought everything inside, my sister took both kids to pick up dinner. I know she pulled the kid card to get out of all the manual labor that was going on at the house, but I was glad she did. After Clare broke down when she first walked into the house, I knew Des wanted some time alone with her so she could speak with her about what she was feeling and the fear she had about being home when mommy wasn’t there any longer. I never want to interfere in the relationship and bond that Des and Clare are forming. I’m going to need Des around, especially when it comes to bras, boys, and periods. I’m not looking forward to that bridge when it gets here. Hell, I may not even end up crossing it; I may actually jump off it.

  Brody’s chest quietly moves up and down and his eyelids flutter while he’s dreaming. He’s getting big and hopefully once we are settled here, he will be able to progress like he should. I would never forgive myself if the lack of progression he’s experiencing now follows him the rest of his life. The doctor doesn’t seem to think so. He just thinks our current situation is the cause and once that’s rectified then he should be on track.

  I turn my head and try to listen for Clare. I told her to get her pajamas on and to brush her teeth so we can read before bed. I know my mother has been laying out Clare’s night clothes along with wetting and prepping her toothbrush with just the right amount of toothpaste, but there are just some things that I cannot bring myself to do; prepping a toothbrush is one of them. Since I don’t hear her in the bathroom, I gently close Brody’s door and turn to look for her. The bathroom light is still on and by the looks of the counter and the toothpaste strung about, I can see that Clare is done brushing her teeth. Maybe that’s why my mom prepared the toothbrush. It saves her from cleaning up the goop. Clare’s light is out in her room so I know that she isn’t in there. I take a chance to see if she’s in my room and when I walk in, I see the faint glow of the closet light coming from under the door.

  Opening the door, I find Clare standing among Kate’s dresses and suits while wearing one of Kate’s nightgowns. She looks up to me. Her eyes are red and full of tears. “Hi, Daddy.” Her voice is thick with emotion.

  “What are you doing, Bink?” I’m not sure if I should address her tears or act like I don’t see them. I know when she would get hurt it seemed that she would cry worse if we showed her attention. When we would just watch and not say anything, she would normally pick herself up and carry on her way. I’m not sure how to handle this situation.

  “Do you think Mommy would mind if I slept in her nightgown?”

  I kneel in front of her so that we are eye to eye. “Not at all, sweetie. I think she would love it if you slept in her nightgown.”

  She lets out a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “Come on, baby, let’s crawl up on my bed and have us a little talk.”

  I take her by the hand and lead her to the bed, picking her up and tossing her over to Kate’s side. She lets out a giggle when she lands. It’s right then I realize I’m not sure when the last time it was that she even giggled around me.

  I pull the covers over her after she crawls in and lift the pillows to support myself against the headboard. Clare snuggles next to me and just the feel of her little hand on my chest gives me so much comfort. If I’m no longer able to have her mother snuggled up next to me, I’m sure glad that I have Clare. “So, Bink, what were you doing in Mommy’s closet?”

  “I wanted to smell her. I miss her smell.” I miss her smell too.

  “Mommy sure did smell good, didn’t she?” She doesn’t say anything she just nods her head. We sit in silence while I run my fingers through her hair trying to calm her. Every few seconds I can hear her sniff and I feel her tears start to soak into my t-shirt. I know Clare is trying to be brave, and I know she’s trying for me.

  “What if I can’t smell her anymore? What happens if I forget how Mommy smells?”

  “We won’t let that happen.”

  “How?”

  “We will keep Mom’s perfume around. And anytime you want to smell her then you can spray a little.”

  “What if we run out?”

  “Then I’ll buy more.”

  “What if they don’t make it anymore?”

  “Then I’ll buy a couple cases of it now so if that happens then we will still be able to smell Mommy. How does that sound?”

  “Good.”

  Olivia was right, smell is such a strong way to remember someone. We attach certain smells to people and to memories and if Kate’s perfume is what Clare needs to keep the memory of her mother alive, to feel close to her, then I will buy a warehouse full just to make sure my daughter will never be without some trace of her mother.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “What happens if I forget Mommy?”

  “Oh, Clare, we won’t let that happen. There are too many people in your life that loved your mommy and none of them will ever let you forget her. Besides, we have pictures and videos of her. If you need me to decorate every single wall of this house with pictures of your mother so you won’t forget her, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  She looks up at me. Her cheeks are tear-stained and her eyes are full of sadness. I place a kiss on her forehead as a sob breaks from her chest. “I miss her so much. Every day I miss her. I love her, Daddy, I just want her with me. I love her so much.”

  Clare’s pain is killing me. There is nothing that I can do, say or promise her to make this any better. I have no idea how long it’s going to take for her to be alright with losing her mother. I’m barely able to accept the fact that we will be alright and I’m an adult. How long will it take Clare to come to the same conclusion?
Kids are resilient, they say they bounce back, that nothing can keep them down for too long, but they love deep. They love purely and truly with all their hearts. Children see the good in everyone, they love without question and they always look past the bad. Kids, they hurt, they suffer and they endure far more than adults. We all grieve, but adults understand. They have a better understanding of what needs to be done, how long things take. Kids they just feel, and Clare has no idea how to live her life without her mommy by her side.

  Brody’s cry stops me in my tracks before I get a chance to reassure Clare that she’ll be okay, that I’ll be alright, that we will get through this time together, as a family. I wonder how much longer it’s going to be until that boy sleeps through the night. “Baby, I’m going to get your brother. As soon as I have him settled then I’ll take you to bed and tuck you in. Alright?”

  “Alright, Daddy.” She snuggles into Kate’s pillow while I head to Brody’s room.

  *

  The sound of Kate’s voice as she sings Clare her nightly lullaby is so soothing. It would relax anyone who heard it. Even a seven month old who refuses to sleep through the night. I can stand here all day and watch my wife with my daughter. They are two peas in a pod. I couldn’t be more proud of my wife; she fits the role of motherhood perfectly. She’s patient, kind, and she loves like there is no tomorrow. I should have known from how fiercely she loves me that she would love our children just as fierce. Kate is the definition of mama bear. She would do anything for her cubs. “Why are you standing there staring at me?” Kate looks up from Clare who is currently nursing and from what it looks like, drifting back off to dream land.

  “I’m just admiring the view.”

  “David.” She shakes her head. “The view of your daughter nursing? Does this get you all hot and bothered?”

  “Christ, woman, get your mind out of the gutter. I was just admiring mother and daughter. I could care less what she was doing. Besides, Clare is only borrowing what is already mine. Don’t you forget that.”

  “Some things never change.”

  “Do you want them to?”

  “Never.”

  *

  There are some things that you can’t stop from changing, even when you don’t want them to. “Hey, little man.”

  Brody is happy as a clam while he’s nestled in my neck. He stopped crying the minute he saw my head pop over his crib railing. I wonder how many times my mother got played by my infant son because he was far too happy far too fast to make me think that she hasn’t spent the last five months giving my son everything he wanted. That thought just gave me heartburn because now I’m going to have to find the strength on top of everything else to de-Grammy these kids. I know my mother means well, but Christ her love sometimes has the opposite effect than what she intended it to have. I know Brody ate enough tonight. I know with the baby food and the bottle he isn’t starving and his diaper is far from soaked. He just doesn’t want to be alone. It’s okay, because neither do I and I’m sure his sister feels the same. “Brody, my son. Your mother would be so proud of you.” I tell him while I stand over his crib. Maybe I can get him to fall back to sleep on my shoulder before I put him back down. “I know she would be telling everyone who would listen that her son is the most handsome boy she has ever seen. Your mother was impartial when it came to those she loved.”

  I know I still have a couple of years before I have to find a way to tell Brody about his mom. The thought of having to get my son to understand everything that his mother stood for seems like a task I have no idea on how to start, let alone finish. I need to put that bridge right next to Clare’s puberty bridge because neither of them I want to cross. “Okay son, let’s get you down for the night. I think it’s time you help dad out and sleep through the night. Please.” As soon as his little body hits the mattress his bottom lip begins to quiver. Before I could pick him back up he’s in full on crying mode. Thank you, Mother. “Well then, let’s go see what your sister is up to.”

  I take Brody and enter my room to find Clare fast asleep on Kate’s side of the bed. Exactly where I left her. Kate and I never allowed Clare to sleep in our bed. We both knew that once she started there would be hell to pay before she ever left. Plus, once Clare was tucked in her bed then it was always time for mommy and Daddy to have their time. You can’t have time alone when there is a little person in bed with you. So our bed was always a no Clare zone, until tonight. Because tonight, there isn’t any other place I would rather have my kids than in my bed with me.

  15

  Olivia

  Technically, I know I shouldn’t be here. I know that I have no right barging into this family’s life, but hell, I really don’t have anything else to do until I’m due at the office. I know Destiny is proud of what her brother is trying to accomplish. But I also know that she won’t push herself into his life like he needs. She will only help when asked, but David asking for help is like me expecting to grow another foot. It’ll never happen. I know David is trying to keep the kids on the schedule Faith has set up, but the problem with that is his mother has been doing this for a hell of a lot longer than David has. Getting the kids up, fed and out the door by the time Clare is supposed to be at school is a piece of cake for someone like Faith. That woman is super human. But someone like David, Clare would be lucky to get to school by lunch time.

  I walk up to the door and the first thing I hear is Brody crying. He’s probably in the kitchen from the sound of it. At least they’re up. I was half expecting them to still be sleeping. Destiny told me that Clare had a breakdown when she went home last night. If it was half as bad as the one her father had, then I’m sure she’s wiped out today. Clare needs to push on. She needs to get to school and be happy. She needs to see David surviving so she can stop worrying about him and be a little girl. She holds so much inside, but I know she’s suffering more than what she’s letting on.

  I ring the doorbell. Brody’s crying doesn’t get any quieter. I hear the clomping of Clare’s feet get closer to the front door and with a click of the lock, she pulls the door open. Now, I’m all for self expression, but what Clare is wearing is nothing but a billboard for being picked on. She has pink plaid pants on and a purple and blue shirt with what look like glittered bubbles on the front. Did I mention her mismatching socks? “Miss Livie!” Her smile reaches each ear.

  “Hi ya, short stack, where’s your Daddy?”

  “He’s in the shower real quick.”

  Walking into the kitchen, I see Brody in his highchair facing the windows. David must have put him in there in the kitchen while he showers. Once I get to him, I see that he’s still in his sleepwear. David had put blankets around him propping him up and had him strapped in. This is proof right here that Kate did most of the parenting. David was clueless. “He was sleeping when I left for the shower.” I turn around and see David standing there in dark denim jeans and nothing else. No shirt and no shoes.

  His normally light blonde hair is more yellow when it’s wet. His bare chest is wide and smooth, free of hair. You can tell by his body that he still keeps up his appearance. I’m sure over the past few months exercise hasn’t been on the list of priorities, but his break hasn’t ruined his physique in any way. His lean, long torso narrows as it goes. His waist is trim and highlighted by the rippling muscles of a six pack, just a few crunches shy of an eight pack. There is a soft line of blonde curls just under his too perfect belly button, which from here looks like an inny rather than an outie. Thoughts of the Wizard of Oz’s yellow brick road cross my mind. “Liv?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you going to get Brody out of the chair, or are you going to keep zoning like you’re doing?”

  “What, oh yeah, sorry.” Pull it together, Olivia, cheese and rice!

  “Cheese and rice? I don’t get it.”

  I thought I said that in my head. “Nothing, never mind. I just wanted to come by to help. Destiny told me you had an appointment this morning and I wanted to make sure
you and Clare got where you needed to be on time. So, um, here I am.”

  “Well, thank you. You didn’t have to come over. I don’t want you to put off any kids that you should be helping this morning.”

  “Oh, but I am helping. I’m here helping Brody and Clare. So, let me get Brody together and you can finish getting ready.”

  “Look!” Clare comes walking into the kitchen wearing the same thing as before, but now her hair is in a side ponytail with most of it hanging out of the rubber band. “I got myself ready Daddy. Now, just get Brody dressed and let’s move it.”

  I look at David who shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, short stack,” I bend down to meet Clare’s eyes, “How about Daddy goes and takes Brody to get dressed and ready for Grammy’s, and you and I will have a little fashion lesson. Okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you in my room.” She turns and leaves the kitchen. “Here take Brody. Change his diaper, get him dressed and then bring him to me. After you can get yourself dressed. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

  He takes Brody from me. “Did you just remind me to brush my teeth?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you thought you had to remind me to do something that I’ve been doing, on my own, I might add for over thirty-five years?”

  “Have you brushed your teeth yet?”

  “No.” He notices my smirk. “It doesn’t mean that I wasn’t going to. I just haven’t had a chance yet.” He takes Brody and leaves the kitchen and I go hunting for Clare.

  16

  David

  SIX MONTHS

  “Good morning, David.”

  “Good morning, Doctor.”

  Coming to see my shrink has become my normal routine. I sit here, she asks me how I’m doing, I tell her the truth, for the most part, and we say see you next week. It seems to make my family happy knowing that I’m getting help and if I’m honest with myself, I’m happy about it too. I’m tired of feeling how I am, angry, guilty, resentful, dumbfounded. I need to get my life back on track. I need to show my kids what it’s like to live after the pain. “So, are you going to tell me the usual?”

 

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