by Heaton, Lisa
John knew the end was near. Occasionally, he longed for it but only to set Chelsea free from the waiting. He found that her pain was the single most painful aspect of dying. He had anticipated it would be different, that he would hurt more. While there was pain, what he felt physically was nothing to compare to what he felt on the inside, deepest in his heart.
Most often, he was so weak he could hardly force himself to sit up, let alone be up and around. The times he did, he made it as far as the sofa and then camped there. It was summer, so thankfully, Lucy was there every day. With the two girls in the house, it was usually loud and chaotic. John liked that. He drank in every giggle and squeal, and often found himself wondering if they would even remember him. Sure, Lucy would to a certain degree, but he imagined Sara Beth wouldn’t. She was too young. As sad as that certainty made him, it also relieved him in a way. If she didn’t remember him, there would be no missing him. Sara Beth would never grieve over a daddy she didn’t really know. Lucy would grieve his loss in the immediate future, and because of that, he had done everything he could to make sure she knew he loved her and that he wasn’t scared, but time would change things. Years would pass and he would be nothing but a distant memory. It was Chelsea he was most concerned about. She would hold on without question, and he feared if she held on too long, she may never find her way back out of it. This was the fear that drove his urgent need to hear her promise that she would allow herself to love again.
One evening after Lucy was gone with Tuck and Sara Beth was in bed already, John asked Chelsea to play for him. When she smiled at him and moved to her piano, he went to join her. That night, he found it took every shred of energy just to make it to the piano bench. She had already begun to play. The melody was familiar to him, and after a few bars, he recognized it as the song she played the first time he heard her sing in church. It was about a beautiful ending.
“I know this song; sing it for me.”
For the first time in the past year, she was able to play the song without crying. Over the past few days, she had cried non-stop, especially when she was alone for more than a minute. By this point, she simply felt cried out. There didn’t seem to be any more tears. So she played and sang softly while John’s head rested on her shoulder. As weak as he was, he still wanted nothing more than to sit with her while she played, so she would play as long as he was physically able to sit and listen.
He was getting weaker by the day, his face drawn and pale. When Louise was in town the week before, she said he had the look of death. She had seen it before. Her words weren’t meant to upset Chelsea, but rather to prepare her. Louise had seen enough of death to know. It was coming soon, and Chelsea knew it too. To continue the fight seemed futile and exhausting and unfair for John.
Through his wheezing and rasping, John whispered, “Promise?”
At that one word she stopped playing and turned to face him. For a moment she just sat and stared into his hazel eyes, how weak they were and how different from that man who interviewed her that first day with such intensity and purpose. Smiling softly, loving this vulnerable man even more than she loved the tycoon, she moved in to kiss him softly on the lips. When she moved back to look at him, she whispered, “No.” As desperately as he needed to hear her promise, she still couldn’t say it. “You are my only one.”
John rested his forehead on hers. “You are my only one.”
He was winded, unable to go on for a moment. Finally, catching a fleeting breath, he said, “Thank you for helping me live. There was no life before you.”
For the very first time, Chelsea voiced what she had wondered all along. “How will I live without you?”
He circled his arms around her and held her gently. “Walk with Jesus, Chels. That’s the only way. You taught me that.”
Still, no tears fell. Maybe she had died before him.
Within a matter of days, John was confined to bed, unable to even get up for brief periods. Lucy would lie with him and color or read. Chelsea found it difficult to get her to leave his side. Lucy understood he was dying. On many occasions, Chelsea would walk in the room and find her crying and John comforting her. They talked often about heaven and the things he promised to tell her maw maw when he got there.
Sara Beth was too young to understand what was happening, but when she was tired, Chelsea would often take her in with her to sit with John. It was sweet how she would cuddle with him until she drifted off to sleep. Other times, Sara Beth was so busy and squirmy that she was unable to sit with him more than a few minutes at a time, but John was happy with whatever time she would sit still. Chelsea believed he was his most energetic when the girls were with him. He seemed to fight for the strength to be alert for them.
There was such a blanket of sadness draped over their house that Chelsea found she could hardly breathe. Some nights, after John and the kids were asleep, Chelsea would go outside and sit on the swing and weep and weep until she literally couldn’t breathe. She begged God for a miracle but knew in her heart one wasn’t on the way. It wasn’t lack of faith but rather a sense of knowing what was just around the bend. Death was coming for him.
One night while she was out alone, weeping under the stars, she recalled something that caused her to grow suddenly silent. It was her own words to Jesus echoing in her heart. When they were in Montana that first trip, while they were out that day on horseback, she prayed for the Lord to change John’s heart, that he might agree to a future together. When she prayed that prayer, she had added, Ask anything, and I’ll give it. This was what she had to give; it was what it cost her to have him. Time. There was little time, barely more than three years together.
For a moment or two her words continued to ring in her head. She had meant those words. She was truly willing to have less time rather than not have John at all. That prayer was answered. With or without her, John had little time, and the Lord knew it. Without her, he would have never had Lucy or Sara Beth. He would have never married again or found such true happiness with family, apart from business. By bringing them back together, God gave John a beautiful ending, one unlike anything he could have ever known alone. It was never about her beautiful ending; it was about his. Chelsea found some odd sense of comfort in this revelation that it wasn’t about her or what would happen to her once he was gone. Instead, it had always been about John finding a second chance to be who he was always supposed to be. She would gladly accept the pain of his loss to have been part of what God did in his life, allowing him to become a husband and a father, to know the love of family. This was his beautiful ending.
Back inside the house, she slipped in next to her sleeping husband. He was laboring to breathe, even more so than usual, and each breath was coming further and further apart. There in the dark, she was thankful she couldn’t see his face clearly. Over the past months, he had become so pale and drawn that he hardly seemed like the man she married and had aged ten years it seemed. At times like these when they lay together in the dark, she tried to visualize him as he used to be, not as he currently was, so worn and tired.
For the first time ever as she listened to him struggle for air, she prayed, “Please take him in peace. Don’t let him suffer anymore. Give him his beautiful ending.”
No sooner was the prayer expressed when she heard, “He’s hanging on for you.”
It was God speaking into her heart as clearly as if His voice were audible. Chelsea knew that to be true. John wasn’t scared of dying; of that she was certain. The few times she would allow him to talk of the end, he was completely at peace and assured her he would be waiting for her. She thought of the promise and how often he had asked it of her. Most likely, that was what was keeping him holding on. Though she couldn’t understand why it meant so much to him, if it was what he needed, she would give it to him.
It was just after ten when Chelsea nudged John gently. He woke easily enough. As much as she hated to wake him, she feared i
f she didn’t he might pass without her promise.
Grinning weakly, he whispered, “Am I snoring?”
Chelsea moved nearer, rested her head on his pillow, and placed her hand on his chest. “No, babe. You’re not snoring.”
He tried to hold her but was too weak to grasp her very tightly. He did the best he could.
“If it’s what you need, then I promise.”
Her words were his release and she knew it. As much as it terrified her to let him go, holding on was prolonging his suffering. She couldn’t watch it much longer as the sight of it was killing her.
He mulled over her words, understanding how difficult they were for her to say. Realizing she didn’t mean them at the time and that she was only saying them for his benefit, he hoped they would someday allow her to let him go. John mustered up all the strength he could and squeezed her tighter, saying, “That’s my girl.”
“I’ll be okay. If you’re holding on for me, you can let go.”
He was proud of how brave she was being. She had held on to hope for so long, for her to finally be letting go was a sign that the Lord was working in her heart, that she was finally accepting the inevitable.
Before long he was sleeping again. She kissed him softly so as not to wake him. It reminded her of their last night in Malibu before they parted. Maybe she was imagining it, but he seemed to kiss her back in his sleep. That made her smile for the first time in a very long time. He loved her. When there was nothing else to hold onto, she had that. No matter what he asked of her, no matter what she promised, that was the one thing she would always hold on to, his love.
Chelsea woke several hours later to the sound of silence. All was peaceful. For just a moment it felt good to lie in the silence, at least until the fog of sleep cleared. Gradually it dawned on her, John had not breathed silently in months. Her eyes were still closed, and she intentionally held them shut tightly for a while longer. When she opened them, life would never, ever be the same.
Finally, she looked at him. It was still dark out, so she couldn’t see him clearly, but she knew: he was gone.
Chelsea reached for her phone and dialed.
Bob was sleeping heavily when the phone beside his bed rang. The sound of it caused his heart to pound hard as he fumbled around the nightstand searching for it. He never wondered who it was; he knew.
“Daddy!” Chelsea cried.
“I’ll be right there, Moonshine.”
Bob woke Gail, who jumped out of bed. They already had planned for this eventuality. Gail would stay with Sara Beth and Lucy if she was there, and Bob would handle things for Chelsea. John had most everything planned out, and Bob knew what to do.
Chelsea dropped her phone and moved closer to John. More than anything, she wanted to feel him hold her again. It was how they went to sleep that night, but sometime during the night, she had rolled away from him. He died without feeling her near. When Chelsea lifted John’s arm, finding he had already begun to stiffen, she placed it over her and snuggled in as close to him as she could get. Just barely, she choked out the words to the song about his beautiful ending.
When Bob arrived and found the door locked, he used his key rather than knock and possibly wake the girls. Inside, he moved quietly into the library and found Chelsea lying there with John. There was just enough light in the room from streetlights that he could see their forms there. They seemed to be embracing. For just a split second, he wondered if maybe he had misunderstood. Then the silence in the room brought reassurance; he understood.
He made his way to the bedside and sat on the edge. Stroking Chelsea’s hair, he said, “I’ve called. Someone will be here to get him soon. You’ll have to get up when they come.”
He felt her nod. Until they came, he sat with her while her mother went up to check on the girls. No moment in his life could quite compare to that one. As much as he knew he would miss John on a personal level, the knowledge of what was ahead for his little girl was absolutely gut wrenching. For her, life would never be the same, and he feared the worst. Past experience told him to.
Chapter 9
Her car was still idling. It was early, and Chelsea sat in Tuck’s driveway, dreading going inside. Lucy had spent the night with her dad the night before, so she didn’t yet know about John. She would take it hard. No one could have anticipated the relationship that developed between Lucy and John, a most unusual bond, truly as if they were father and daughter – or maybe grandfather and granddaughter. Once, Lucy said it was okay that she had no granddaddy since she had John. That sweet memory actually caused a smile to tug at Chelsea’s lips, a rare occurrence in the past months.
Finally, after putting it off as long as possible, she turned off the engine and walked up to the house. Even before she reached the top step of the porch, Tuck had opened the front door.
Having heard a car roll down the gravel drive, Tuck had peeked out the front window and saw Chelsea sitting in the car. When she didn’t get out immediately, he decided to give her a minute. Bobby had called before daylight to tell him about John, but he had not told Lucy yet. He was waiting for Chelsea so that she could be the one to tell her. It seemed best that way. Tuck was heartbroken for Chelsea and Lucy both. The months ahead were going to be traumatic for them, something no one was prepared for. Even though he knew it would come, still he felt ill equipped.
As much as he wanted to hold her, to comfort her, Tuck didn’t even consider it, but as soon as he opened the screen door she stepped into him. When she draped her arms around his neck and collapsed against him, he wrapped his arms around her, whispering, “I’m so, so sorry. John was a good man.”
If anyone understood what she was feeling, Tuck did, so he simply held her as she had once held him. Just as he had felt that day by the barn, Chelsea was drowning in grief and longing for things to be different. He was helpless to help her. The only thing that could possibly bring her comfort was gone forever. Since hearing of John’s illness, he had prayed harder for his healing than he had prayed for most anything. Of all the things in the world that he didn’t want, this was it, Chelsea hurting and heartbroken, lost and alone.
For a moment, they stood together in the doorway. Chelsea had done well holding herself together during the hours of the night, but for some reason, the sight of Tuck sent her over the edge. Maybe it was because she knew how difficult it would be when they talked to Lucy. She had lost her maw maw not so long before, and losing John so soon afterward would be just too much.
Chelsea saw Lucy come to stand in the doorway of the living room. She was watching them embrace. It was clear by the look on Lucy’s face that she knew why Chelsea was there. When she came running across the room, Chelsea moved from Tuck’s arms, dropped to her knees onto the floor, and grabbed Lucy into her arms. Together, they rocked back and forth and cried.
Watching Lucy and Chelsea cry, Tuck found he was crying along with them. How could he not think back to that first Christmas Eve when they held each other in Chelsea’s doorway? Though it seemed like a lifetime ago, in some ways, it felt like yesterday. It was as vivid to him as if it were. From the very beginning, there was some divine connection that enabled them to feel what the other was feeling, to share and grieve and weep together. Even still, it baffled Tuck.
Eventually, Chelsea took Lucy to the sofa, and for a while they simply sat and talked. Tuck excused himself as they discussed what their future would look like without John in it.
It was decided that Lucy would go with Chelsea while Tuck worked. Before they left, though, Tuck offered to go with Chelsea to make whatever arrangements she needed to since she had done the same for him. She assured him that John had made all the necessary preparations and that her dad was handling anything that was yet to be done. Their plan was to spend time together as a family, Chelsea, Lucy, and Sara Beth. The funeral would not be until the following day, so for that day, they just wanted to be alone.
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When Tuck entered the funeral home, he found Chelsea there looking as if nothing tragic had happened. She was shaking hands, greeting those coming to the visitation. Bobby told Tuck she had been like that since the visitation had begun earlier in the afternoon. She was not at all the Chelsea who fell to pieces in his arms the morning before.
The girls were with Granny Gail but would be coming to the funeral home later in the evening. Tuck would stick around until then. As awkward as it felt for him to be there, he couldn’t imagine not staying. He went to Chelsea and told her again how sorry he was, but after that, tried to stay in the background as much as possible.
He watched as one person after another entered, spoke with Chelsea, and then finally moved on to allow the next person in line to speak to her. The line seemed never-ending. John was not only loved by those locally, he was admired nationwide. Masses of people came to pay their respects.
From afar, Tuck prayed for Chelsea. He was proud of how well she was holding up. Deep down, though, he suspected it was all pretense. She loved John too much to be taking his death so well. Somehow he knew this was merely the calm before the storm.