‘Too skinny,’ Harry had said as the farmer led us over to a tree.
‘Too wonky,’ he’d said about the next one the man showed us.
‘The top is crooked on that one.’
‘Too tall,’ Harry had continued.
‘You’re a hard taskmaster,’ the farmer had laughed, shaking his head.
He had brought us to another one, with its branches evenly spread, and it had looked fairly okay. ‘What do you think, Harry?’ I’d asked. ‘Does it meet your high standards?’
‘Do you like it, Robyn?’ he’d said, turning to his little sister who was wrapped up in her buggy.
She had smiled her lopsided smile back at him.
‘This is the tree,’ he’d announced to the man.
Tears had welled in my eyes and I felt my whole chest tighten. JP slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in against him. He was finding this whole thing just as emotional as I was. The togetherness we were showing as a family was everything I had always wanted; it was just bittersweet that it was to be our last one as us.
Robyn was exhausted when we finally got home. JP had trussed the tree up onto the roof of the car and then, to continue the tradition, we’d stopped off in Bewley’s on Grafton Street on the way home for a steaming hot chocolate, but I could see that the trip had taken its toll on her, so while JP climbed the ladder into the attic to find the decorations, I tucked her up in bed for a nap with Mr Bunny.
She slept a lot now and each day it seemed as though we were losing another little piece of her. Her speech was gone, and she couldn’t walk any more. She could still smile though, and that smile meant the world to me. When she had been five weeks old, she had given me her first smile as I had been changing her nappy. After a sleepless night of breastfeeding, those gummy smiles would fill me with the warmest feeling and now as I saw her little facial muscles working so hard to do it, it felt like those new baby smiles all over again. I was trying to find joy in the everyday things, wherever I could, and that’s how I felt when Robyn smiled.
When she was asleep, I covered her with the duvet and crept back downstairs.
‘You’ve kept all their decorations,’ JP said as he held up an angel made using a toilet roll insert that he had found in the box of decorations.
‘My angel!’ Harry cried, taking it from JP and hanging it on the tree alongside the new decorations that Harry and Robyn had made themselves the day before. I had traced their hand and footprints onto cardboard, Harry had cut them out and then we had helped Robyn to paint them with her right hand. When they had dried, I had laminated them, to preserve them, and attached string to hang them.
‘That tree would put the one at the Mansion House to shame,’ JP said as we stood back to admire it when we had finished. If the sun hadn’t been beaming in through the windows from outside, you would swear it was actually Christmastime.
‘Mam?’ Harry asked.
‘Yes, love?’ I turned around from the tree to face him. I saw he was clutching a piece of paper in his hands.
‘I wrote my letter to Santa.’
‘Really? Can I see it?’
He shook his head. ‘Only Santa can read it when he comes tonight.’
I smiled. ‘Okay, love.’
‘I’ll hang up the stockings,’ Harry said, taking them out of the box.
My heart stumbled as my eyes landed on the names that were embroidered across the top of each one: John-Paul, Sarah, Harry, Robyn. I found myself wondering what would we do with Robyn’s stocking next Christmas? Would we hang it up as normal or would it be too painful a reminder of her absence every time we looked at it? Then I felt a smack of guilt, we couldn’t forget about her. She would still be our daughter; even if she was no longer with us, we needed to make sure she was remembered.
‘I’ll put up Robyn’s stocking for her next year, Mammy,’ Harry said as if he sensed my upset.
I began taking my candleholders out of the box where I had stored them during my heartbroken haze last January. I couldn’t help but think back to the crushing disappointment of the Christmas before. The last time I had set about lighting these was the night before everything had started to go wrong. I wished I had known then how perfect my life was right at that moment. I had been so blissfully unaware of the heartache that lay ahead for us. So much had changed since then.
JP spotted my candles and laughed. ‘That collection multiplies every year.’
‘What?’ I said, pretending to be offended. ‘It wouldn’t be Christmas without them!’
I moved from candle to candle lighting them as Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas’ came on the playlist that we were listening to on Spotify. That song was so bloody jingly and I remembered how Robyn and her friends had danced to it on stage at her playschool Christmas show the year before. Everywhere there were reminders that Robyn was departing soon.
We had dinner when Robyn woke, then we bathed the children and dressed them in new Christmas pyjamas that I had managed to find online. I loved when they were fresh from the bath; their skin so clean, their hair so silky. We put on the movie Elf and Robyn surprised us all by staying awake for most of it. JP and I were sipping mulled wine and we had the fire lit even though it was roasting, and I had to open the windows to let some of the heat out, but we had all agreed that if this was to be Christmas Eve, then a roaring fire was essential.
After the movie was over, Harry, with some help from Robyn, set out a gingerbread family for Santa with a glass of milk, then JP and I tucked them up together in my bed. We made Robyn comfortable on the pillows and I began reading ‘’Twas the Night Before Christmas’. Harry held her hand and I knew that she was happy.
As I recited the words like I did every year, it was hard not to let my mind get caught up in a tangle of ‘last times’. I found that I had to keep pushing back tears. This was our last time reading this poem on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow it would be our last Christmas opening presents as a family of four, our last Christmas dinner with all of us together. I kept tearing up whenever I was reminded of something else she would be missing out on – we would all be missing. We were so very close to the end of our time limit. A nurse from the hospice had been out to visit us and I knew the deadline was looming on the horizon and I was powerless to stop it. I desperately wished I could pause our lives, but time marched on regardless of our pleas. How would I deal with December when it was actually Christmas and the shops would be decorating their windows with swags and garlands and snow scenes or when heart-warming Christmas adverts with messages of love and togetherness, featuring happy families preparing for the big day, filled the TV screens? For the first time in my life, I now understood why people said Christmas could be a difficult time.
When the kids were asleep, JP and I came back downstairs and went into the kitchen to prepare the vegetables for dinner the following day. We were having a large crowd: JP’s parents were coming over; Fiona and Seán were going to come too. Fiona had offered to cook, but I wanted it to be like every other Christmas, so she had relented on the condition that I allowed her to bring the trifle. Other friends and family were going to drop by over the course of the day, including Linda and Mel. Robyn’s pal Lily was coming over with her mum and her playschool teachers were going to call too. I wanted everyone who mattered to be there for Robyn’s last Christmas. Although nobody spoke about it, everybody realised that it was their chance to say goodbye to her. I knew tomorrow was going to be a tough day. My body felt like a cracked pane of glass that somehow still managed to hold together but was perilously close to shattering into millions of tiny pieces.
‘Do you want another glass?’ I said, gesturing to the mulled wine that was on the hob, when we had finished peeling a small mountain of potatoes.
‘I’d better not, I’ve to drive home.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Well, I was thinking… why don’t you stay over? The kids would love to have you here when they’re opening their presents… if you want to, I mean – unless there
’s somewhere you need to be…’ I trailed off. JP had been spending the majority of his time with us since our last appointment with Dr Sharma and was only returning home once the children had gone to bed every evening. I had been wondering how it had been going down with Megan, but I never asked him. That wasn’t my problem to deal with; I had enough worries on my plate right now.
I knew he was taken aback as he studied my face to make sure I was serious.
‘In the spare room,’ I added, feeling heat flood into my cheeks in case he had thought I was suggesting something else.
‘There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,’ he said quickly. ‘Thank you, Sarah… I really appreciate this.’
I filled both of our glasses with mulled wine and we went into the living room and flopped down wearily onto the sofa.
‘I’ve wanted to say something to you for a while now,’ JP spoke as the fire sparked in the grate.
‘Go on,’ I said with trepidation. Although we had recently reached a truce, I knew it was as fragile as antique china and I didn’t have the energy to resurrect old war wounds. I hoped that wasn’t the road that he was about to go down.
‘You were right about the treatment in Arizona,’ he began. ‘Deep down I always knew it. I knew that clinic was a long shot, but I just needed hope, I needed something because I couldn’t accept that there was nothing I could do – I’m her dad, I’m supposed to be able to protect her from all the bad things in the world.’ He paused. ‘You see, I always had this thing after Ellen died… we usually cycled home from school together, but that day I had hurling training after school so she was cycling on her own and I always wondered if maybe I could have saved her if I had been there with her… Maybe I would have seen the car or something… I don’t know… that’s why I had to try and do everything possible to save Robyn, but I was being selfish. I wasn’t thinking of all that we’d be putting her through. I wasn’t putting her needs above my own. I can see that now.’
‘Oh, JP,’ I said, as he confirmed what I had suspected all along that the impact of his sister’s death had clouded his judgement about what was best for Robyn. ‘Why didn’t you ever say anything before?’
‘I didn’t even realise it myself until very recently.’ He turned around to face me. ‘I’m sorry for putting you through all of that and I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you earlier. A huge part of me felt as though I was letting Robyn down by not fighting for her, but I can see now that letting her go peacefully is the more loving thing to do.’
‘It doesn’t make you selfish wanting more time with her. I want that too, more than anything in the world.’
‘Yeah, but you instinctively knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do – I didn’t. I’m sorry for questioning your love for her. You’re a great mother, Sarah. You’ve been brilliant throughout this whole nightmare – you’ve got me through the days when I didn’t think I could go on…’ He paused. ‘You’re the glue that holds our family together.’
‘Thanks,’ I muttered, taken aback by the surprise compliment. We had been fighting so much lately that it felt like a long time since JP had said anything nice to me.
‘The kids adore you; you always get it right. You always know the right thing to say or do,’ he continued.
‘They love you too, you know.’
‘Yeah, but it’s different… you put them before yourself all the time. You’d walk through fire for them and they know that.’
‘What’s brought all this on?’
‘I suppose it’s a long-winded way of saying sorry. Leaving you like that…’ He trailed off. ‘Well, I’m not proud of myself.’
‘Well, it wasn’t one of your finer moments,’ I agreed.
‘You know, when we were watching the movie earlier with Harry snuggled in beside me and Robyn sitting on my knee… it was perfect. I didn’t realise how much I missed all of that. I keep asking myself how did I walk out on it all? How had I ever thought there was something better out there?’ His cheeks pinkened as he spoke.
I was stunned. ‘Eh, in case you’ve forgotten, it was your choice to leave, JP – I was happy with us.’ I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the truth needed to be heard.
He shook his head. ‘I know, it’s all my own fault – that’s the worst part of it. I only have myself to blame. If only I could see then what I can see now, I never would have gone anywhere. I wish so much I could rewind the clock. When I look back, it’s like I don’t even recognise that person any more. How had I been that selfish?’ He paused. ‘I guess the grass isn’t always greener…’
‘Is everything okay with Megan? Is she being a support to you?’ I asked.
‘We broke up actually.’
My mouth dropped open. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
He tilted his head at me sceptically. ‘No, you’re not,’ he laughed.
I couldn’t help but laugh too. ‘No, really, I am,’ I said. And I genuinely meant it, I knew he must be hurting, and lord knew both of us had enough pain to last a lifetime right now.
‘After I went home the night that we broke it to Harry that Robyn was dying, I told Megan it was over. I couldn’t do it any more. We hadn’t been getting along for a while and then when Robyn got sick… it’s made me see everything in a new way. This thing has been thrown upon us and it’s like it casts a magnifying glass over everything in your whole life and nothing is the same ever again. It’s like suddenly you have clarity about what’s really important to you and you want to grab all those things and hold on to them tightly, and on the flip side, you have to let go of anything that doesn’t quite stand up any more.’
I nodded in agreement; I knew exactly what he meant because I felt the same way.
‘What started out as fun and excitement turned out to be not what I wanted at all. I didn’t love her – I thought I did, especially at the start, but now I can see that it was just infatuation. I thought I wanted sex, but really it was just intimacy and closeness that I needed, and I soon realised that Megan couldn’t give me that. She was like a shiny penny that had turned my head, but then you flip it over and you see it for what it really is, tarnished and dull. And I can’t really blame Megan, she was just being a normal twenty-six-year-old, but God, I missed our family and all the simple things, like tucking the kids up in bed. Just being able to sit and watch TV on a Saturday night, without having to glam it up and stand packed into a sweaty nightclub or the way we used to have lazy Sunday morning breakfasts together, reading the papers, with the kids playing around us, instead of being dragged around shopping centres. I just grew tired of it all…’ His voice choked, and I saw he was close to tears.
‘Where are you staying?’ I asked.
‘I’m still in the flat and she’s moved in with her friend. I know I’ve fucked up,’ he continued, ‘and I certainly don’t deserve any sympathy, but I hate it, I’m alone and I hate it. I miss what we had. I can now see what’s important in life… it has put everything into perspective. I know what I really need and want.’ He paused and his eyes locked with mine. ‘I don’t think I can get through this without you – you’re the only one who understands what it’s like…’
His words rang true with me. People tried to understand – people like Fiona tried to listen, but I always felt I needed to protect them from the true depths of my despair, I couldn’t let them see how broken I really was because I knew it would hurt them to see me in such pain. When all was said and done, JP was the only other person who knew exactly what it was like. Just how awful and crushing this nightmare was. I could be completely honest with him because I knew he was thinking about the same horrible things that I was thinking about. I didn’t need to put on a brave face for him and that in itself was a relief.
‘I miss you,’ he blurted. ‘I miss what we had… I need you, Sarah – I can’t do this without you.’
Harry
Dear Santa,
I hope you and Mrs Claus and all the reindeers are well. This is Harry, aged nine and a half, from Dublin in
Ireland. Remember you brought me a black skateboard and a remote-controlled car for Christmas last year?
I know this is weird because you probably never get letters in June when the weather is really hot, but I have some really important things to ask you. My little sister called Robyn (remember you brought her a Baby Annabell doll last year?), well Robyn is very sick, she has bad things growing in her brain and the doctors have no medicine that can make her better. Mam and Dad told me that she’s going to die. Santa, I have to ask you for three things and I know that’s a lot of things to ask for, but they’re not toys and they’re not really things for me.
The Last Days of Us Page 21