We had made it to the elevator as Nikola repeatedly hit the up button to summon one of the four lifts in the corridor. Pieces of her auburn hair fell into her face. The lights on the elevator read it was on the fourth floor.
I saw the stair sign to the right. “Let’s take the stairs. It’ll be faster.”
Nikola was on autopilot as we made it through the large metal door. She took off in a sprint as we climbed. We were halfway up to the second floor when the loud clanking from the first-floor door echoed through the stairwell. Nikola pushed on and I was right behind her. We came out of the stairwell and onto the second floor. A dark-wooded nurses’ station stood out against the stark white walls a few feet from the elevator doors.
Walking up, Nikola said, “We got a call that Anne Kingston had been admitted. She’s my grandmother. I’m her emergency contact. My name is Nikola Mattox.”
The young nurse gave her a sweet smile. “Hi, Nikola. Yes, Ms. Kingston is in her room. She’s stable. Dr. Grieger will be right out to speak with you.”
Nikola began to panic. “Can I not go see my grandmother then speak to Dr. Grieger?”
Before the nurse responded, Dr. Grieger came through the doors.
Whatever he had to say, I figured it wasn’t going to be good if he wanted to speak to us ahead of time. “Nikola, do you mind if we go into this office and speak? Your grandmother is sleeping now. She knows you’re on your way.”
“Okay. Can I see her, even if she’s still sleeping, once we are done talking?”
Dr. Grieger walked toward a small room to the right of the stairwell. “Of course you can. When we’re done, I’ll take you back there.”
We went in, and the doctor closed the door. There was a loveseat and two chairs. I can’t imagine coming into this room meant anything good when you were with a doctor. If it had been good news, wouldn’t he have told us out there?
Adjusting his white coat and then his stethoscope, Dr. Grieger started talking.
“It appears your grandmother had a seizure. Once she was stabilized, we went through our routine checkups she was scheduled to have next week to see if the cancer had advanced. First off, Ms. Kingston has a fever that I believe triggered the seizure. Her breathing has significantly decreased to the point she is not getting the oxygen she needs. After reviewing the scans, the cancer is more aggressive than we’d originally thought. It’s continuing to spread and has grown substantially. The lung cancer is constricting the bronchioles, which is making it difficult to breathe. In our last meeting, Anne refused to undergo treatments. Her only request was to stay comfortable. Has anything changed since our last meeting?”
“No, nothing has changed,” I said. “I was with her yesterday, and she seemed okay. I mean, her breathing has gotten worse, but she wasn’t this sick or else I would have made sure she came in.”
I put my arm around Nikola and pulled her to me.
“Even as doctors, we don’t understand all there is to know about cancer.”
I couldn’t imagine being a doctor and having to deliver this sort of news to people. My heart broke at what he was alluding to.
A sob erupted from Nikola. “How much time does she have?”
The doctor looked down. “I’m afraid not much. Her condition is deteriorating quickly. She’s still cognizant, but I’m not sure for how long.”
Nikola leaned into my shoulder and cried. I wrapped my arms around her, wanting to be everything she needed but not knowing what to do. Seeing the love of my life like this felt like a having branding iron slowly dragged over my skin.
The doctor continued, “Ms. Kingston is not aware yet as to the severity of her current condition, but you were cleared to receive all medical information. I didn’t want to wake her to tell her the news, since family was on the way. Do you want me to tell her or would you like to? Sometimes the family wishes to be the one. I don’t mind, but wanted you to have the choice since there’s time.”
What the hell? He was asking Nikola if she wanted to tell Anne she was dying. I had to try to shelter her from this pain. I knew Nikola would want to be the one.
“I-I-I will,” she said. Her tearful sob was heart-wrenching.
Dr. Grieger stood. “I’ll give you a few minutes. You can see Ms. Kingston whenever you are ready.”
Without waiting, Nikola stood and tried to quiet the sobs racking her body. She continued to wipe the tears away as they fell. There was a tissue box on the table next to the blue couch. I grabbed a couple and handed them to Nikola. We stood and walked outside to meet the doctor.
Nikola addressed Dr. Grieger, “I’m ready. Can you please call my parents and let them know to come? Brandt will give you their numbers.”
Pulling out a notepad and pen, Dr. Grieger handed it to me. I scribbled their numbers down. We started walking toward Anne’s room. The sounds of beeping were heard throughout. Nurses quietly worked at their stations. We walked through the door that led to Anne. Nikola held my hand in a death grip, which I knew was my answer—she wanted me here with her when she spoke to Anne. In the center of the room, on a hospital bed, Anne peacefully slept, though her breathing was substantially labored.
A blue pleather chair with dark wood sat off to the side of the bed. Nikola took a seat then grabbed Anne’s hand. The smell of bleach wafted into my nose.
“Grandmama, are you awake?”
Anne’s blue eyes fluttered open and focused for a bit on Nikola. “You’re here. I knew you’d come.”
“Of course I’m here. I came as soon as we found out.” Nikola put her other hand on top of Anne’s.
There was a cup to the side with a sponge on a stick. Anne said, “Water.”
Nikola got the cup and sponge and put it to Anne’s lips to wet them. After Nikola was finished, Anne started speaking.
“It’s bad, isn’t it? When I called nine-one-one for my head and chest hurting, I knew it was bad. Right after I spoke to the person, I passed out. I don’t feel like I have much time.” Anne’s voice was weaker, not it’s strong, vibrant self.
Nikola looked down. “It is worse. The cancer has grown and spread. The doctor is calling Mom and Dad.”
A few tears fell down Anne’s face, and she winced as pain hit her.
The doctor came in. “Ms. Kingston, I wanted to let you know that your son and daughter-in-law are on their way. They were just outside Atlanta. I’ve prescribed a morphine drip for the pain to keep you comfortable. As the pain gets worse, we’ll administer the morphine orally.”
Anne coughed. “Will I be lucid?”
“We can set the drip to take the edge off, but you’ll still be cognizant. It’ll ease the bronchial tubes’ breathing for now.”
“Okay, let’s do that.”
He nodded. “I’ll let the nurses know. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Our focus returned to Anne as we heard the door shut. Nikola dragged the seat closer to Anne and smoothed her sheets. There was another chair in the corner that I moved next to Nikola. I was at a loss as to what to do. Nikola chewed on her lips, trying to keep her emotions at bay. I grabbed her left hand while she held Anne’s in the other. Nikola’s hand shook.
“Grandmama, I don’t know how to do this. I’m not ready.”
Anne closed her eyes and a few tears trickled down her cheeks before she reopened them. Her voice was a tad shaky. “Nikola, we’ll never be ready. But I do want you to know how proud I am of you. We’ll always be in each other’s hearts. Remember we can meet in each other’s dreams. Every sunrise and sunset, we can gaze up together and know we are looking at the same sky.”
Nikola sobbed. “I want to be strong, but I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
“You’ll always have me. I’ve left you a surprise at my house. When I’m gone, go there with Brandt. It’s for both of you.”
Anne turned to me. I could tell she was getting more tired. “Take care of Nikola. She needs you like you need her. Treasure your love and never take it for granted. Goin
g through all this has been easier, knowing she’s got you. Be there for her, Brandt. I’ve loved you like a son and you have no idea how happy I was when you both found your way back to each other.” Then, to both of us, she added, “In so many ways we’re fortunate we can say goodbye to each other and tell each other everything that’s in our hearts. When it gets tough, remember the good times, not the sad. Remember all the love and laughs we’ve shared.”
“I promise. I’ll be there for her forever. I promise I’ll treasure her love forever and never take it for granted. I won’t go back to drugs, Anne. I swear it. My commitment to Nikola is forever.”
Nikola cried and squeezed my hand. She glanced at me with tear-filled eyes. I grazed her cheek with my thumb. “I love you, baby. Forever. I’m here for you.”
“I love you, too, Brandt.”
Anne had a smile on her face.
Nikola turned her attention back to Anne. “Grandmama…”
Anne turned to Nikola as she spoke with a shaky voice. It was killing my wife to be this strong, and the knife slowly went in deeper as I wasn’t able to take control.
“I will treasure every conversation and moment we’ve ever had. You’ve taught me about love and life. You’ve guided me when I thought my compass was lost. I love you so much. I promise to make you proud. My kids will know you and what you mean to me.”
Anne started crying, too, as Nikola slid in the bed next to her. They cried as they held each other. I wanted to scream. Why would the world would do this to them? Life was tough as fuck sometimes; I didn’t understand why we couldn’t get a little peace.
The cries subsided as Anne whispered, “Let’s not be sad. Let’s treasure the time we’ve got to spend together. We’ve loved more in our time together than some people get to in a whole lifetime. You’ll be okay. You’ve always been stronger than you knew.”
“I’ll remember each and every one of the good times, Grandmama.”
“Me, too. Know I’ll be looking down on you every second of the day.”
Nikola and Anne continued to embrace each. They spoke in whispers about their memories. The door cracked open and Nikola’s parents appeared in the doorway.
They looked shaken. Anne hadn’t wanted to worry them with the cancer until after the wedding. Nikola and I had both respected her wishes, even though we’d disagreed. Imagining their shock was indescribable.
Nikola’s dad spoke, “Mom, is it true?”
“It is, son. I didn’t want to worry you.”
Richard’s normal demeanor cracked and emotions shone through like a bright light.
Anne spoke to Nikola, “Do you mind giving me some time with your parents?”
“Of course, Grandmama. I’ll be right out in the hallway.” She gave Anne a kiss on the cheek, and a loving smile graced her lips.
I followed Nikola. When we got to her parents, Nikola gave them a hug. Her dad embraced her. At first, her mom was a little stiff, but she softened, hugging her back.
I gave them whatever smile my face was capable of at the time, even though my heart was heavy. We stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind us. The curtains had already been drawn for privacy, so we weren’t able to see anything. A few nurses were making their rounds.
Nikola turned to me and started sobbing in my chest. “I’m not ready to let her go. I don’t want to be strong. I want her to be okay. I want a miracle. I’ve been praying for a miracle. She’s dying, Brandt. She’s dying.”
I stroked her back and started walking us a little farther down the hallway to a more private alcove, from which I could still see Anne’s door. Searching for soothing words, I said, “I’m not ready to let her go either, but she’s in pain, baby. She’s in so much pain.”
“I know. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to let her go. I want more time. I want to go back to yesterday when we were at our house. It felt like nothing was wrong. If I’d known that would have been our last day together, I’d have memorized it.”
Sobs continued to rack her body as she clung to me. Her nails dug into my back.
“I know, baby. I know.”
I held her close. Moments felt like hours. Time stood still.
The door to Anne’s room creaked open and Nikola’s dad stepped out with red-rimmed eyes. Richard nodded in my direction.
“Hey, baby, it’s time to go back in there.”
Nikola pulled away and started walking toward her father. When we reached the doorway, he put his arm around Nikola and I let her go. She needed to feel this rare love from her father.
As we walked into the dimly lit room, Nikola’s mother stood off to the side, wiping her tears away. Nikola went to the vacated seat she’d been in before. The pain was evident on Anne’s face, and her breathing was still labored. Anne smiled at Nikola. The monitors continued to beep at regular intervals.
Nikola took a deep breath as the nurse came in and went to the bedside. The nurse was young with brown hair in a ponytail. She checked the monitors. “How’s the pain, Ms. Kingston?”
Anne looked to Nikola and was about to speak when Nikola pleaded, “Don’t stay in pain, Grandmama. Please, don’t stay in pain. Don’t worry about me. Be comfortable.”
The nurse looked toward Anne, waiting for a response. Anne sighed in relief. “The pain is growing.”
“Let’s increase the morphine drip. You’re going to get sleepy, but it’ll help your breathing. You’ll be in and out. When the pain starts to increase again, let us know and we’ll continue to increase the dosages.”
The nurse pushed some buttons. As the nurse left, Nikola talked to Anne, doing what she’d asked earlier, remembering the good times.
“Do you remember when it rained, how Grandaddy and I always sing our made-up song, ‘It’s waining all over da world?’ You’d correct our pronunciation every time!”
“I do. You guys would stare out of the door, singing it over and over. That is a good memory. Tell me another one you have.”
Nikola smiled at the memory. “Do you remember Grandaddy would always have me put the paper towels on the holder backward to aggravate you when I was younger?”
Anne’s eyes got heavy as she chuckled. “I love that memory, too. He loved you, and he lived to aggravate me. Keep remembering things and telling me about them.”
Nikola talked about all her joyful memories as Anne drifted in and out of sleep.
I glanced at the clock; it was after four in the morning. Everyone had joined in and shared memories all night. At times, Anne had been alert, and at others she’d lain in the bed, peacefully asleep, as we talked to each other, surrounding her with memories of our life together. The nurses had brought us all coffee as we stayed awake, talking. In some ways, it was therapeutic.
An hour ago, the nurses had started administering the morphine orally. Anne hadn’t said much besides “I love you” throughout the night. The whimpers in Anne’s sleep had spurred the doctors to recommend the more aggressive morphine doses. I’d been watching the heart monitor, and it had been slowly dropping. It was going to be anytime now, as the breaths came further apart. A rattle from the fluid that had started accumulating in Anne’s chest in the night worsened.
The nurse checked the monitors again. “We’ll be monitoring outside, but I’ll give you some family time. Ms. Kingston’s vitals are dropping rapidly.”
Nikola got wide-eyed.
Richard spoke to Anne first, “Mom, I love you. It’s okay to let go.”
“Anne, thank you for loving me for who I was. It’s okay to let go,” Nikola’s mother, Melanie, spoke softly.
I leaned over and touched Anne’s hand. “You’ve impacted my life more than you’ll ever know. I love you with my whole heart, Anne. It’s okay to let go.”
Next was Nikola. She said, “Grandmama, I’ll remember you in every sunrise and every sunset. I’ll remember you in every breeze and will meet up with you in my dreams to tell you what’s happening in my life. I’m going to be okay. I love you. I love you so
much. It’s okay to let go. It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. I don’t want you to hurt anymore. I promise to remember the good. I promise.”
All our eyes were wet as Nikola spoke. The monitor began to fade even quicker. Nikola cried silently as she leaned her head down, listening to the beeps get further apart. Within a minute, Anne breathed her last breath and left us standing in the hospital. As she exhaled the last time, the world seemed a little dimmer.
We all lost a piece of ourselves in that final moment.
THE NOISE OF everyone talking around me was deafening. I needed silence. Since Grandmama’s passing two days ago, I hadn’t had a moment to myself. We were at the potluck in the fellowship hall that followed the burial. I have just buried my Grandmama. The words still seemed foreign as they ran through my head. It didn’t seem possible. It was like my life had been on fast-forward, unable to slow down.
There were constant reminders of Grandmama on the white paneled walls from different events she’d attended throughout the years. The picture right in front of me was of all the people who’d helped repaint the wood panels in this room. I was in the picture, covered in paint, hugging Grandmama. She didn’t have a drop on her. That had been a good day, full of laughter.
Wesley had come for the funeral, but it had been hard on him, with the memories of Diane still fresh. Shortly after the funeral, he had to leave and was headed to talk to Quentin—he introduced Wesley to a guy who’d been through the same thing. Wesley had felt horrible for leaving, but I’d insisted. A funeral was the last place he needed to be, but it meant so much that he’d come. Faith and Logan were talking to my parents. I loved being part of Brandt’s family. Faith made me feel like a daughter, and Logan made me feel like a sister—but I still felt like a piece of me was missing.
“Nikola, dear, did you hear me?” I blinked twice to see one of Grandmama’s longtime friends, Janice, in front of me.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat what you said?” My manners kicked in. All I wanted was to be left alone. Everyone wanted to talk to me. I only wanted silence.
On a normal day, the food smells would have been delightful. Today, they made me sick. Grandmama would have delighted in the outpouring of love, but it was hard to find any silver lining today. Brandt sat beside me and placed a drink in front of me. It looked like ginger ale. I didn’t want anything, but he’d insisted. He hadn’t left my side the entire time except a few minutes ago. Brandt had been doing the majority of the talking for me.
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