Coming Undone

by Stallings, Staci

  The tears were overwhelming him now, and he sniffed them back angrily.

  “This option is not about tossing that life away. It’s about honoring life and the end of life. Death is a natural part of the process. That’s not a good thing or a bad thing. It just is. Your dad lived a strong, healthy, vibrant life. He helped a lot of people. He gave a lot of good to this world. You are not going to diminish that by accepting that the time of his death is near.”

  Sorrow crushed over his spirit, crumpling it. “But I don’t want him to go.”

  The touch of her hand on his shoulder brought the tears springing out of his eyes.

  “I know. And that’s okay. One thing you have to learn is to be very gentle with you. Let yourself feel and grieve and hurt. It’s part of the process.”

  Overwhelming panic gripped him as he looked up at her. He could not do this alone. That much he was perfectly sure of. “Will you go with me? To sign the papers?” For a long moment his gaze searched hers, and then his bounced around and fell to the floor. “I really don’t think I can do this alone.”

  Her soft brown eyes under the fall of blonde waves soothed his overwrought emotions when he glanced back up. “If you want me to go with you, I will.”

  Chapter 5

  Kathryn sat in one chair in Dr. Vitter’s office, Ben in the other. Dr. Vitter sat like a stone statue on the other side of the expansive desk. She watched the pen just touch the paper, and then Ben jerked it back. Closing her eyes, she prayed for God’s will to be done. If Ben was having this much trouble, maybe there was a reason. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to sign those papers. She didn’t know, but she knew Who did.

  “And there’s nothing,” Ben said as if he was pleading for his own life. “Nothing else you can do.”

  Dr. Vitter’s gaze never left the other side of the desk. “We’ve done everything, and nothing in any test we’ve done gives us the slightest hope that he could ever come back.”

  Ben nodded but did not move.

  “Ben,” Kathryn finally said, and he turned to her with that same pleading in his eyes, “if you’re not sure, there’s no need to rush. Maybe you know something we don’t.”

  She felt Dr. Vitter’s gaze snap to hers, and she felt the anger too. But she didn’t flinch. He could think what he wanted. She knew only to be there for this family that needed her to do what was right for them—not push them into a decision they were not ready to make.

  A moment and Ben looked up at Dr. Vitter. “Um, could you give us a few minutes?”

  The doctor looked both shaken and confused, but quickly regained his composure. “Certainly.” Standing, he went around the desk and to the door. “Take all the time you need.” And then he left.

  When he was gone, Kathryn fought to keep herself under control. She had no idea what Ben might be thinking, but she was pretty sure whatever it was, she wouldn’t have the answer.

  “What do you believe,” he began slowly, “about Heaven? About God?”

  Whatever she thought his question would be, this was not it. “Uh, well. I believe that God exists, and so does Heaven. I believe that when our bodies die, our souls go on into eternity.”

  “So you don’t think this is it?”

  “No, I don’t.” With everything in her, she wanted to ask where this was coming from, but she didn’t want to push him. These were steps he had to take on his own.

  He laughed in that way she was getting used to, that little disbelieving, short little sound. Then he raked in a long breath. “My dad believed that too. He wanted me to believe it, but all that stuff that heaven and hell stuff—it was just stuff they said at church to me.” His gaze fell to the papers. “Now I almost wish I believed it.”

  She let the thought drift in the air between them. “Why?”

  When he looked over at her, it was as if he thought she had to know the answer to that question. She knew for herself, but she didn’t know for him.

  “All my life, things have been easy for me. I played soccer in high school, made captain of the team my junior year. I was all-state my senior year. I went to college had a great time, graduated, got a job, got my own apartment. I never really thought I needed a God, you know? I never saw the point.” He stopped and took a breath. “Now, I guess I see that if I could believe Dad was going somewhere, that this wasn’t the end, that maybe someday I would get to see him again… Maybe I could sign those papers.”

  “Have you ever seen a cross?” she asked, truly wondering where those words came from.

  He shrugged. “Yeah. I mean you see them all the time.”

  “Have you ever seen one with Jesus on it?”

  This one made him shift in his chair. “I’m not crazy about that kind. It’s kind of… ghoulish to worship some statue of a guy hanging there being tortured, don’t you think?”

  Her voice grew softer. “There’s one down in the chapel in the hospice unit. I was there last night. I go there a lot, and I look up at that man on the cross and I see what He gave up for me, how much He loved me, and how much He believed in God’s love not just for Him but for me too. He believed right to and through the point of death. And sometimes when I sit there and look at Him, all I can think is, ‘Jesus, please help me with my unbelief. Please help me in those times that I can’t see You in the situation. Help me believe like You did, like You do.’”

  Ben’s forehead creased in consternation. “I thought you said you believed in God.”

  “I do.”

  Confusion piled on confusion. “But you prayed about your unbelief. If you believe, why would you pray about unbelief?”

  “Because sometimes it’s hard to believe. And believing doesn’t negate life. Believe me, there are many times in my life that I want to question God. I want to question His timing and His plan and His wisdom. I look at things that happen, and I just get so angry with Him because I don’t understand, because what He’s doing makes no sense.” She glanced over at the papers. “Like these papers. I hate seeing families going through what you’re going through. I hate that. I hate that they are so sad and confused and scared. I want to make it all better, but I don’t know how. That’s when I have to go to God and ask Him to help me to know what to say and how to say it, to know what they need, and if I don’t know, then for Him to just do it through me because I can’t. I don’t know all of the answers. I wish I did.”

  “Do you think I should sign the papers?”

  The question was spoken with such a trust that she could hardly think of an answer.

  “That’s not a question I can answer,” she said slowly. “I don’t know what’s right for you and for your dad.” The next words went through her heart three times before she said them. “But I know Who does. I believe if you will ask Him, He will give you the answer you need.”

  Ben scratched the side of his face as he sat back away from her. “God, right? You’re talking about God.”

  She should back off. She knew she should. Yet… “I am.”

  He sat there for the longest moment of her life. “Okay. Then how do I ask Him?” Ben pointed at the ceiling with the pen. “What do I take out a telegram or something?”

  “No.” The words took a barrelful of courage. “You pray.”

  “Pray?” How he could sound so incredibly sarcastic she didn’t know. “You think I should pray about this?”

  Her gaze went to the papers still lying on the desk. “If it was my decision, I know I would be doing some serious praying over it.” Then she resettled her gaze on him. “But you have to do what you feel comfortable with.”

  He let his gaze fall to the pen now in his fingers at his chest. “And if I were to pray, what might I say? I mean I don’t exactly know how to talk all that Thee and Thou stuff.”

  Kathryn smiled and laughed. “Well, I don’t think you’re alone there. But prayers don’t have to be some stylized version of King James. You just speak from your heart and then listen for what God has to say.”

  “My heart? Wow, you certainl
y don’t go for the easy answers, do you?”

  She smiled again. “I try not to.”

  A moment during which she had no idea what might come next, but she sat through it, knowing the next move was his. Finally, Ben shook his head slightly, pulled up, and then leaned forward toward her. When his gaze came to hers, there were only fragments of his normal arrogant manner in them. Mostly they were filled with fear and uncertainty.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he said softly. “Would you pray it for me?”

  How did she get into these things? God, help. “Of course.”

  In front of him Kathryn leaned toward him, and Ben wondered at the veracity of his own mind. What was he thinking asking her to pray with him? What was that? He didn’t pray, and he certainly didn’t go around asking other people to pray for him or with him. Even as he bowed his head with hers, doubts and insanity swirled through his thoughts. Had he met her in a bar, praying would not have been his first thought at all.

  Of course, considering what they were about to do this moment that was probably not what he should have been thinking about, but it went through his mind just the same. She was, after all, quite beautiful. Blonde hair that hung in waves down to just past her shoulders, beautiful brown eyes, a nice smile—yes, he would have taken her for a spin or two. And now, somehow, absurdly, here he was praying with her. What sense in what realm did that make?

  “God, we come to you today,” she said, and he shifted in his chair suddenly uncomfortable with all of it, “to ask for Your guidance. We know that all things are of Your making, that all times and seasons obey Your command, and that You have a plan in everything. Lord, we ask You to make Your understanding available to Ben. Show Him what to do, God, and give him the strength and the peace to do it.”

  Thinking the prayer was over, Ben shifted back but stopped when she continued. Her head was still down, her eyes closed; she never knew he was looking right at her.

  “And Lord, I ask a special blessing on Ben. You know how much he is struggling in this decision and with his belief in You. I ask only that You reveal Yourself to him so that in the coming days he will always know that at this moment You were truly right here with him.”

  If the angels were not singing, it sure felt like they were.

  “Thank You God for every great and perfect gift that You give us—even the ones that sometimes don’t feel like it. All these things we lift up to You. Amen.”

  Stunned and feeling like he’d just been hit by a bolt of white, hot lightning, Ben blinked twice, searching for reality. Two feet from him, she opened her eyes and smiled in a way that pierced right through the center of his heart.

  “Did that help?” she asked after a moment of silence between them, and the softness in her voice cradled him as he had never been held.

  “Y-yeah. It did.”

  A moment of her eyes being only on him, and then she cut her gaze to the papers. “If you want me to let you have some time…”

  “No.” He knew he shook his head, but he didn’t know how. “No.” Peace flooded his soul. “I’m ready now.” And as if it was the easiest decision he had ever made, he turned and signed the four sets of papers that suddenly didn’t seem nearly so scary or overwhelming.

  When they were signed, he let out a long sigh as a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He thought through it all once more and then turned to her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Things began moving very quickly for Ben at that point. In no time he was back in the neurology ICU wing, standing outside the double doors waiting. They had let him have one more private moment with his father before they removed all the wires and tubes. He hadn’t been any better at this visit than the last. The whole ordeal was grating on his nerves so that he felt like he might jump out of his skin at any moment.

  He wished she hadn’t had to go back to work after the signing the papers thing, but honestly, he knew she couldn’t be there to hold his hand every step. However, he smiled slightly as he remembered her sitting there in Dr. Vitter’s office. For that moment it was certainly nice to have a friend.

  “Ben,” Dr. Vitter said, coming out of the doors, and Ben’s attention jerked up as he straightened from his leaning post on the wall. “They’re taking him down.”

  It took more than a second for him to understand what the doctor was saying. Then he remembered the vast labyrinth of back hallways and staff only elevators. Of course they wouldn’t transfer a patient through the lobby. “Okay.” His senses came back to him, and it was humbling how very far afield his sanity had gone in the last couple of days. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Ben held his hand out to shake the older man’s hand.

  “I wish you all the best. Your father really was a wonderful man.”

  “Thank you.”

  And with that, Ben turned and headed for the last time to the eighth floor elevators.

  “Kate,” Misty said from the telecom.

  Kathryn pushed the button. “Yeah?”

  “They’re on their way with Mr. Warren.”

  As he traveled down the elevator with the twelve other passengers, Ben wrapped one arm around his middle and let the other trail up to his neck. This was so awkward. He wondered if he wore a big sign on his forehead that said, “I just sold my dad down the river.”

  Others in the elevator bantered on as if nothing in the world was wrong or out-of-sorts. He wondered how often he had shared an elevator with someone who had just signed papers, or just gotten the call, or just lost someone. He tried to think, to remember, but he couldn’t. Things looked so very different from this side of reality.

  The ding of the elevator brought his attention back to the present moment. That was a good thing because there were times he felt like he might just zone out for good and never come back. Tired was part of it to be sure. But some of it was just existing in a realm he didn’t really understand and had never prepared himself for. Not that anyone really prepared for such things, but surely others had been much more prepared than he was.

  Walking through the lobby and down the long hallway with the windows that looked out onto traffic, he let his steps slow and then slow some more. His heart was slamming in his chest. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t know how. Maybe by the time he got there his dad would already be gone. After all, they had said he might not be able to breathe on his own very long.

  Disparate parts of him warred with each other—saying this or that would be better and then adamantly disputing that suggestion. At the door to the hospice, he stopped and heaved a sigh. What would life be like on the other side of the door? Yes, he had seen the lobby. He had even seen a room. He’d just never seen his father inside a room, and that scared him.

  Trying to act like this was all perfectly within the realm of normal for him, he opened the door and strode up to the nurse’s desk in the middle.

  The nurse from the first day looked up, and he turned on the charm that had always served him so well in the past. “Yes, they just brought my father…”

  “Ben.”

  He fought to corral himself before he turned to greet Kathryn. It was much easier to play act I’m-fine with someone he didn’t really know. As she came to him, he lifted his hand to her. She smiled, but there was sadness and pity in it. That was such a trap. It asked him to remember that he was really here and why. “Kathryn.”

  She shook his hand and then turned them both toward the lobby. “He’s in the corner room.”

  They stepped away from the desk, and he noticed the nurse purposely go back to her work as if disappearing into the woodwork.

  “Would you like to see him now?” Kathryn asked, walking next to him but not reaching out to him or hurrying their steps.

  “I…” He cleared his throat desperately trying to get more out. “Hm. Um, I…”

  Calm, compassionate brown eyes turned to him. “It’s okay. Everyone is nervous the first time. But it’s really not so bad.”

  Only beca
use she had the strength did he feel like he might not completely fall apart. “Okay.”

  At the far end of the lobby and off to the right, she opened the door. Ben closed his eyes, feeling like his heart might turn him around and run without his even telling it to.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly, beckoning with her eyes as she stepped into the room.

  One more swallow and Ben followed her inside. This room was the other’s twin. The same furniture, the same set up. The only thing different about it was the figure lying prone and motionless in the bed. Ben’s heart caught at the sight. The white hair, always so very dignified, was perfectly in place. His father would like that.

  Grief overwhelmed him, and he balled his fist at his side, fighting the memories—the Sunday mornings when he would wake and take the paper to go into his father’s room, laying with him as he explained the world and life. How did they get here so fast?

  “Dad…” Tears flooded into Ben’s eyes, and he covered his face with his hand, ducking to hide the anguish. Even when his father was in the hospital, he’d never gotten this close—close enough to really see him. Now he was only steps away, no tubes, no wires to mask how very close to the abyss his father had come. “God, why?”

  Choking on the emotions, he fought to breathe. Like the brush of a soft angel’s wing, her hand rubbed his shoulder and down his back. Knowing he would fall through the earth if he didn’t have something to hold onto, he turned and grabbed for her. Desperately he clung to her as pangs of heartache wrenched over him.

  Over Ben’s quaking shoulder Kathryn looked at the man lying in the bed. The love of his son was palpable. It spoke of how very much the son must have been loved. She closed her eyes then and offered up a prayer for them both and a quiet plea for the strength and wisdom of God to be in her to get them through this.

  Finally Ben pulled back, nodding and sniffing. From his pocket there was a small beep, and he dragged in a hard breath as he reached for it. With a beep, he had it on and to his ear. “This is Ben.” He scratched his head and turned from her into the depth of the room before going over to the couch. “Hey, Kell. Yeah…”