Truly Yours Contemporary Collection December 2014

by Joyce Livingston, Gail Sattler, Joyce Livingston

  “I can’t get anything past you, can I?” He smirked and followed her inside. There wasn’t a guy in the place, only women perusing the multitude of soaps and lotions in every color of the rainbow. The warring scents assaulted his nostrils.

  Debbie opened a bottle of pink stuff and placed it under his nose. “Isn’t this nice?”

  “Smells like a lollipop. What is it?”

  “It’s called Raspberry Dream. You really don’t seem into this.”

  “Tell you what. . .” He took out his wallet and pulled out a few bills. “Why don’t you buy my mom and Sandy something for me? I’m no good at this kind of stuff. To me, everything smells the same.”

  “You aren’t leaving me for that computer store across the way, are you?”

  “No. I was hoping to check my voice mail for any messages. Here,” he said, handing the cash to Debbie, “you can spend up to fifty bucks on each.”

  “Wow! Okay.” Debbie looked as though he had given her the key to the bank. She grabbed a shopping basket and began performing the sniff test on various products.

  Neil moseyed outside the store, took out his cell phone, and hit the auto-dial button to access his messages.

  “Neil, this is Mom. I just got a call from the charge nurse at White Pines. Elvina isn’t doing very well. She won’t take her pills for the nurse. Maybe you can go over there and see what’s happening. I’ll try to see her tonight.”

  His hand tightened around the phone. What? How can that be? It didn’t sound like Gram at all.

  He listened to the next message.

  “Neil? This is Trish from the White Pines Care Facility. I’m calling about your grandma. We’ve been having a hard time getting her to take anything. She won’t eat or even take her medications. Everyone here is very concerned. If she doesn’t take her pills soon, she may be transferred to the hospital. Please give the floor a call back. You can ask for Mrs. Whitaker.”

  Even Trish was calling? A chill fell over him, despite the warmth of the mall and the fact that he was perspiring heavily inside his wool sweater. A message from the head nurse, Mrs. Whitaker, followed, echoing her concern over Gram’s condition.

  Neil hurried back inside the store to find Debbie carrying two gift baskets full of bath products. “Hey, Neil, how about gift baskets? Don’t they look nice?” Her cheerful face deteriorated into one of concern. “What’s the matter?”

  “Tell you in a minute. Go ahead and get them. We have to go.” He waited until she paid and handed him the change. “Gram is refusing to take everything. Food, pills.” He swept his hand across his face.

  “Neil, I’m so sorry!”

  He took the bags. “This is it, Debbie. She’s going to die. Grandpa Joe’s gone. My dad’s gone. Now this whole Sam and Harold story. I guess she thinks she has nothing left to live for. She’s given up.”

  “Neil, we have to pray that won’t happen,” she said as they hurried toward the escalator. “God isn’t going to let anything or anyone take her until it’s time. You have to believe that.”

  “Maybe this is the time.” He bumped the shopping bags into the door in his haste to leave. Outside, the parking lot was filled to capacity with last-minute shoppers. “This is a nightmare. How am I going to get out of here?”

  “Neil, it will be okay.”

  Debbie appeared so calm, cool, and collected. Maybe if it were her flesh-and-blood relative in dire straits, she would act differently. She, too, would be angry at the shoppers and traffic, realizing she was still an hour away from a loved one ready to sink into eternity without even saying good-bye.

  “I should have never set up that meeting between her and Harold,” he said gruffly, trying to pull out of the parking spot. Debbie warned him about an oncoming car. “I see it. This is nuts. We’re never going to get there in time. She’ll die, and it’s my fault.”

  “No, it isn’t your fault, Neil Jenson. So stop it right now.”

  The tone of her voice made him stare at her in surprise. He managed to steer the car out of the parking lot and to the main road heading for the interstate. “I don’t know, but it’s obvious things aren’t resolved. And now she’s doing this, like she’s decided to take revenge or something.”

  “So they told you she isn’t eating?”

  Neil nodded. “Yeah, and not taking her pills. Her refusal to take her blood pressure medication has me worried. She could have a stroke if her blood pressure isn’t in check. She’s already had a mild one, you know. A few years back.” He then muttered about the crazy drivers. “This is nuts.” He abruptly rolled down his window. “Hey, how would you like me to cut you off?” he shouted at a driver in the passing lane.

  Debbie sank down her seat and stared out the window.

  Neil frowned. He knew he was acting like a wild man, controlled by anxiety and confusion, guilt and blame. He didn’t know what to say or how to react. His emotions were doing all the talking. But maybe Debbie needed to witness the raw side of him—see that he wasn’t all dapper and kind, helping his elderly grandmother, being a hero. He had his share of faults and problems, too. He was a regular flesh-and-blood guy, not some stained glass saint.

  He began to grind his teeth as negative thoughts drove away peace, joy, and faith to some black void of nothingness. Debbie reached over and inserted a CD. Christmas carols filled the car. He tried to listen to them, but all he could envision was Gram, pale as a ghost, her hand lying across her chest, her breathing ragged as she spoke her final words.

  I’m dying, Nathaniel. Now that everyone I love is gone, I might as well see them in heaven. Kiss the family for me. Tell them there’s nothing more they can do for me.

  “Neil, watch out. You’re driving on the shoulder.”

  Neil quickly brought the car back onto the highway. Gram had sometimes refused to eat, but never had he known her not to take her blood pressure medication or any of the other colorful pills she took each day and night. She was trying to make herself die.

  “I won’t have her committing suicide,” he growled out loud.

  “Neil?”

  “She’s trying to kill herself. Keeping herself from medication. As a Christian woman, she should know that’s wrong.”

  Debbie scraped tiny images with her fingernail into the frost forming on the window. Two hearts intertwined. A star. A candle. A mural of Debbie’s mind began materializing on the window. “Neil, she’s acting out on her feelings. A cry for help, you might say. This is a tough time of year for the residents. We just need to take it one step at a time and not go in there looking to condemn her. Something is making her do this. If we can find out the reason, we might be able to deal with it.” Now she set to work on a small stable, no doubt the beginnings of the Nativity.

  In no time, they were on the road headed for White Pines. Neil wasn’t sure what to say or do when he arrived. He knew Debbie was right, that he needed to keep his opinions in check. He couldn’t march right in there and force-feed Gram the pills, though he might be tempted to do so if necessary.

  He ran into the facility with Debbie trying in vain to keep up. He didn’t even notice until he entered the elevator and pushed the button that he’d left her behind. His thoughts were on one person and one person alone. When he exited, the head nurse was standing there next to the medication cart. From the look on her face, the news was not good.

  “Mr. Jenson, I’m sure you’re here about your grandmother.”

  “Is she dying?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. But if she keeps going the way she is, it’s not looking good. I was going to put in calls to your other relatives. Since you’re the one who sees her so much and your name is listed first on the chart, I wanted to wait until you came in. But I will be obliged to share the information with her power of attorney, a Mr. Kevin Jenson.”

  “He’s her oldest living so
n. So what brought this on?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me. She seemed perfectly fine a few days ago, and suddenly this happened. Not that I want to pry into personal matters, but I hope everything is all right. I know disagreements can happen from time to time.”

  “Actually there was a wake-up call of sorts.” He described in abbreviated detail the scenario surrounding his real grandfather, Gram’s first beau, and how Harold knew him from the war.

  “Isn’t that amazing? I would think Elvina would be happy to hear such news. To know that there’s a resident right on this floor who was so close to your family.”

  “I guess it did the opposite. Now she feels there’s nothing left to live for.”

  Mrs. Whitaker nodded in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. You realize if she doesn’t take her pills, we may have to transfer her to the hospital. As it is, her blood pressure is beginning to spike. And she needs fluids.”

  The mere mention of all this made him sick inside. “I’ll get her to take her pills,” he said with a huff. He came to the doorway where Gram lay in bed, her eyes closed, looking like a pale doll. It didn’t seem possible that she had been reduced to a feeble state in such a short period of time.

  When he came to her bedside and spoke, her eyelids fluttered open. Her gray blue eyes stared straight ahead. “I know why you’re here, Nathaniel, but it’s my decision. You’ve made your decision. I’ve made mine.”

  “It isn’t your decision, Gram. Not when it comes to life and death. That’s God’s decision.”

  Her cheek muscles tightened. “Nathaniel, I won’t debate this with you.”

  “Gram, you’ve just had the greatest encounter with a man who knew Sam and was with him when he died. Harold’s the last living person Sam talked to. The one who heard Sam’s last words, and they were all about you. Isn’t that worth something?”

  “You might have at least told me who it was I was meeting and not some fancy story about an old friend from long ago. You lied to me, Nathaniel.”

  He hadn’t lied. Harold was a friend from the past, a very good friend of Sam’s. “I knew you wouldn’t have met him if I told you everything. You have to admit it’s a miracle, Gram. That a man living on the very same floor as you knew Samuel Truett.”

  “Harold is a very nice man. And I appreciate what he had to say, even if I think he made it up.”

  “He isn’t making it up. He even knew your nickname because Samuel told him. So, Gram, there’s no reason to do this to yourself. None at all.”

  “I’ve made my decision. I want to be home with my dear Joe.”

  “This isn’t your decision to make. Life-and-death decisions are in the hands of the Lord. He’s the One who decides. You do this, and you’re playing God.”

  She closed her eyes. “Please leave. I want to rest.”

  “You can’t do this. Think about your family.” And me, he added silently.

  “I have thought of my family. And who really cares anyway? None of them come to see me, except for you. I have been more of a burden than anything. You know it, and so do I. There really isn’t anything more to say.”

  Neil stood there speechless. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t make the family come see her. But he had visited her. Didn’t that matter to her? Didn’t all that count? He wanted to shout, to make her see reason, to tell her how selfish this all was. He thought about putting on a record to calm the situation, but right now he needed something more powerful. Something that would speak louder than mere human words could say. He picked up her Bible. “Can I read you a few verses, Gram?”

  She shrugged. At least she didn’t order him to leave and never come back. He clung to any signs of hope at this crucial time. Flipping through the scriptures, he prayed for a word to minister to her heart. He cleared his throat. “I’ve always liked these verses, Gram, in Proverbs, chapter three, especially when I’m trying to figure out things in my life.

  “ ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding: in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and shun evil. This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones.’ ”

  He looked up to see Gram’s eyelids beginning to close from fatigue. With a sigh, he shut the Bible, placed it on her bedside table, and whispered good-bye. He had done all he could. The rest was up to God. Exiting the room, he nearly stumbled into Trish. She appeared to be lingering in the hallway. She said nothing but pretended to arrange her linen cart. He glanced back to see Trish enter another room across the hall. Neil wondered if she had been eavesdropping. What did it matter? Gram wanted to die. He might as well leave here and never come back, for what good he seemed to do. Nothing was working out, no matter what he did.

  Neil never felt so burdened. He strode down the hall, and suddenly he was in front of Harold’s room. He peeked inside. Harold had wheeled his chair into the bathroom and was combing his hair. To Neil’s amazement, the veteran was singing a song. He stared in disbelief. How could the man look so alive when only a week ago he seemed confused and out of his mind? And now Gram was the one acting confused. It’s like they switched places. The sight of the man, renewed in spirit, cheered Neil immensely. Finally some good fruit to be had after weeks of bad.

  “Harold?” he said softly, stepping inside.

  Harold wheeled his chair around. “Neil. I’m glad to see you. Come in.”

  It felt good to be acknowledged in such a friendly manner. He sat down slowly in a chair.

  “You don’t look too good,” Harold observed. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Gram. Liv, that is.”

  “What’s the matter? Is she sick?”

  “She won’t take her medicine. Her blood pressure is rising. She’s decided it’s her time to die.”

  He twisted his face. “Is it because of me?” He said it matter-of-factly but with innocence and vulnerability. Tears welled up in his stark gray eyes. “It is because of me, isn’t it? Because I didn’t take care of her and Albert. She won’t forgive me. That’s why she’s doing this.”

  “No, Harold. It’s a bunch of different things. She’s decided to feel sorry for herself and doesn’t care about the consequences. Maybe you could talk to her again.”

  Harold shook his head. “I don’t see what good that will do. As it is, I’m responsible. She was fine until. . .until. . .” He began to mumble something under his breath.

  “No. She’s lonely, and I don’t think she knows what she’s truly lonely for. I can’t fulfill her needs, even though I come to visit. No one can. Only God can fulfill them, whether here in White Pines or in her own house. But it’s hard convincing her of that. Gram’s lived through a lot of loss. Maybe it’s finally caught up with her. I know you’ve been through a lot, too. That’s why I think you can reach her when no one else can.”

  “But I wouldn’t know what to say or what to do. I talked to her once already. It didn’t seem to do much good.”

  “Sometimes the best thing you can do is nothing at all. Maybe you can just sit there for starters. Let her know someone else cares in this world besides me. Let her see God through you.”

  Harold turned back to the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. “I suppose I could sit there for a little while anyway.”

  Neil breathed a sigh of relief. He helped wheel Harold down the hallway, past the curious onlookers who had gathered at the nurses’ station. Trish stared at them as if this were some kind of evolving soap opera. Neil brought Harold to the doorway of Gram’s room.

  Harold said nothing, only stared at the woman lying in bed with her eyes closed. Neil saw his dry, cracked lips begin to move. Harold was praying! The sight of it moved Neil as well as convicted him. Pray at all times without ceasing. Harold is right. Pray when the going gets rough. Pray and don
’t stop. God, please make this work out all right. You saved me. You helped my family by revealing a secret from so long ago. You helped me by bringing Debbie into my life and blessing our developing relationship. Please save my grandma.

  Fourteen

  “I don’t know why you’re here.”

  “You know why I’m here. Your grandson even said so. He says you aren’t eating or taking your medicine. You have to eat.”

  “It doesn’t matter. No one cares. Once they leave you in this place, that’s the end. Sometimes people come to visit. But really we are just a burden to everyone.”

  Silence weighed the air.

  Debbie’s skin began to crawl. Harold and Elvina were in the room talking, but she couldn’t help overhearing. Neil’s heart would break if he knew what they were talking about. Thankfully he was gone. She had heard, of course, how Neil talked to Harold yesterday, convincing him to meet with Elvina. Harold had come, but she refused to see him. Now today, by some miracle, she had agreed to a visit. “One last time,” as she put it, “before I leave this world. There’s nothing worth living for anyway.”

  But there is, despite the situation, Debbie thought. God was an ever-present help in times of need. He remained in control, even at White Pines. He cared. His love knew no bounds, whether in a house or here in a facility. And it was God to whom people needed to look to for comfort and consolation. If only she knew how to convey these things so despair didn’t rule the night. She had had to learn it well herself when she thought despair would overcome her. She was a living example. No one was immune, whether they lived on the outside looking in or the inside looking out. And through it all, she discovered He was sufficient for everything, in every situation.

  “That may be,” Harold continued to Elvina, “but it still doesn’t give you the right to hurt yourself and others, like Neil for example. He’s done a lot for you. He’s given up his life for you. And what have you done?”