Tranquility
Page 26
She was still seeing Kyle. It was the longest relationship she’d ever had. When she wasn’t with him, she was often at our house. We’d become her surrogate family. She’d become the sister I’d always wanted and the aunt Kayla never had. She and Mom had also become close and I knew it made Tracey reevaluate her relationship with her own mother. She’d been home to visit twice in the last month and had even made an effort to get along with her stepdad.
My own relationship with my mom continued to grow and evolve. I think being able to speak openly about my dad’s death helped her to heal and finally find peace and closure. She also started dating. Dr. Chang took her out to dinner one night, but she quickly put an end to it, deciding a relationship with him would be too complicated considering the circumstances. Lately, however, she’d been seeing more of Andrew, the widower from the mall. She came home from her dates glowing.
She was falling more easily into the role of mother. Sometimes too easily and at the worst of times, which often ended up being embarrassing and awkward, but I knew she was only trying to make up for lost time.
Since Gran had come home to die, I’d seen strength in my mother I never knew she had. She made decisions I didn’t think she was capable of making. One of those decisions was to take Gran off life support.
Dr. Chang came to the house with a palliative team. Gran was sedated, the feeding tube removed and all fluids stopped. Morphine was continued to keep her comfortable and sedated. A few hours later, she was taken off the ventilator.
They’d gone over it with us, so we knew what to expect. She could stop breathing as soon as ventilation was stopped, or continue to breathe on her own indefinitely.
Mom was at Gran’s side when the ventilator was shut down and removed. After Gran’s comfort was seen to, the medical team gathered up all the equipment and left.
I took Kayla into the room when they were gone. I’d arranged for a few days off work and pulled Kayla out of school so we could be there. Mom was sitting in the armchair beside the bed, holding Gran’s hand. Kayla climbed up onto Mom’s lap and sat quietly, studying Gran’s face. “Is she dead, Mommy?”
I crouched down next to her. “No, sweetie. Listen, you can hear her breathing.”
“She’s quiet now,” Mom said. “She sounded rough a few minutes ago.”
Kayla placed her tiny hand on Mom’s cheek. “Don’t be so sad, Nana. Mommy said when Gran dies she’s gonna go to a really nice place with Grampa and Daddy.”
Mom swiped away the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks. “I know, sweetie, but I’ll still miss her.”
“Me too. Are you gonna die too, Nana?”
Mom put her hand to her mouth and looked away. “Yes,” she finally replied, smiling down at Kayla through her tears, “but not for a long time. I still need to see you grow up, finish school and maybe get married and give me a grandbaby to love as much as Gran loves you.”
Kayla smiled and gave my mom a hug before she jumped off her lap. She seemed content with the answer. She climbed up on the bed beside Gran and took her hand gently in her own. “It’s okay, Gran. Mommy told me ‘bout that place. We’ll miss you, but if you wanna go there, it’s okay. We’ll always love you, even if you’re not here.” She leaned over and kissed Gran’s cheek, then jumped down and ran out of the room yelling, “I’m gonna watch TV now, okay, Mommy?” I smiled wryly at Mom, who looked a little shell-shocked, and said, “That went better than I expected.”
* * *
Gran’s raspy breathing startled me out of my thoughts. The events of the past months had been playing out in my head like a movie as I sat with her and waited for the end. I’d sent Mom upstairs to help Kayla get ready for bed. It was the only way I could get her to take a break from sitting with Gran.
With each passing hour, it became more of a struggle for Gran to breathe. I knew she’d been sedated enough that she wasn’t in any pain, but it was still hard to watch her fight to stay alive. She’d hung on longer than anyone thought she would. It didn’t surprise me that she was as stubborn now as she’d always been. She was a fighter and now she was fighting for every breath not to be her last.
I thought of my dad and my last memory of him, lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and machines. For a long time, that was how I’d remembered him. I hated him for leaving me. I hated him for leaving my mom sad and empty and incapable of being a mother. Now, finally, I felt like I’d forgiven him. I’d moved past the hurt and anger and started remembering the good things.
I pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wiped the dampness from my face. “I still miss him, Gran,” I said aloud. “I still get that tight, achy feeling around my heart when I think of him. I think that ache is good, though. It means I won’t forget.”
Gran moaned. She was restless suddenly and her breath rattled. I turned her gently on her side, placed pillows under her arm, against her back and between her knees. The rattling stopped and she rested easy again.
I sank back into the armchair, took a sip of lukewarm tea and glanced at the photo on the nightstand beside me. It was one I’d taken the Christmas before of Gran, Mom and Kayla, cuddled together on the couch after turkey dinner watching TV. They looked sleepy and contented; bellies full of good food, heads filled with wonderful new memories, hearts full of each other. It was the final photo I took that day, the special photo of our last Christmas together.
I rested my head against the back of the chair, closed my eyes, and listened to the birds sing their farewells to the setting sun. The sound of Kayla’s laughter drifted down the stairs. The ache in my chest eased a little. It was good to be alive.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LAURIE GARDINER GREW UP ON A farm in a small Northern Ontario community in Canada. She left home at seventeen to experience life in the city and now lives in Cambridge, Ontario with her husband of twenty-seven years. Raising three kids, teaching fitness and operating a home daycare left little time for writing, but she did have some poetry published in various anthologies over the years. In 1997, her short story “’Til Death Do Us Part” placed first in the Cambridge Writers Collective anthology.
At the age of forty, Laurie went back to school and began a new career as a personal support worker. Though she ended up working in homecare, it was a placement in the dementia unit of a long-term care facility that inspired her to write her first novel, Tranquility.
Laurie is currently enrolled in the Creative Writing Program through the local community college and is working on her second novel.