Just As I Am

by Lynn Jaxon

  “I love you, man. Thanks for everything.” I hang up the phone feeling the effects of the alcohol. I feel a little calmer, so I head back to the living room where I can hear the sounds of laughter.

  Em, Marley, Mitch, and Henry are watching the movie Joe Dirt. As stupid as it is, it makes me laugh like no other. Em isn’t usually much for that type of film, but she loves her some Joe Dirt. “It’s so good to hear everyone laugh,” I say. “This is one of my favorite parts. ‘Home is where you make it.’ ‘You like seeing homos naked?’ I nearly pee my pants every time I watch this.” Em’s favorite part is when he is down in the hole being held by Buffalo Bob. ‘I’m putting the lotion on its skin, I’m rubbing it in.’

  Em pats the couch cushion next to her, “Come and give me some snuggles.”

  I will never pass up any type of love or snuggles from her. I am going to soak in every last one I can get.

  Henry pops some popcorn, and we spend the rest of the afternoon eating popcorn and watching movies. Em doesn’t appear to be in any pain, so that brings me some comfort. It’s always in the back of my mind wondering, waiting. How much time do we have? And the bigger question, how am I going to go on without her?

  Chapter Twenty

  Benson

  It is Christmas Eve. Emily is too weak to get out of bed. The day we watched Joe Dirt was the last night that Em felt even remotely like her old self. I can tell she is sad that she is too weak to help prepare Christmas dinner.

  Em saw Dr. Banks yesterday, and he confirmed that the MRI she had done two days ago showed extensive growth of her tumor. It is pressing down on the Medulla, which is the part of the brain that regulates our involuntary functions such as swallowing, heart rate, and breathing, just to name a few. I know she doesn’t have long. It was obvious, and there was no mistaking what we were looking at… an aggressive and deadly tumor. I had to fight to keep from throwing up. Em seems almost numb. I feel like I am looking into a window at someone else’s life. Not my own. How can I be losing my wife? She is deteriorating so fast. Her hair is brittle from lack of nutrients, her skin is dry and gray in color, she’s hooked up to an IV for fluids, and let’s not forget this damn feeding tube we had to have placed down her nose. She’s had several seizures, each lasting longer and making her grow weaker by the day.

  Marley is here, but I am resentful about having to share the time I have left with Em, with her. She is in the kitchen and has recruited both Mitch and Henry to help her cook Christmas dinner. Tonight is all about the prep work and desserts. I can smell the decadent chocolate and toffee melting together in what Em calls Marley’s famous Chocolate Toffee Cake as it bakes in the oven. I look over at Em, and she smiles at me.

  She tells us all, “My dry mouth is actually watering at the aroma of your cake, Marley. I almost love it as much as I love Starbucks lemon loaf. Too bad I’m unable to eat either one without choking. Do you think you can blend it and put it in my feeding tube?” She laughs, trying to make light of the situation.

  Tomorrow night, after Christmas dinner, she told me she wants to sit down with Marley and talk to her. I wonder what is weighing so heavy on her mind. Why can’t she tell me? I have a flash of resentment again that Marley is taking away my time. I know it is childish, but I can’t help it.

  I hear the doorbell ring, and Marley answers the door. Like clockwork, it’s five, and the florist is dropping off the arrangement of gerbera daisies I have sent to the house for Em every week. I had to pay them a fortune to get them to deliver this late on Christmas Eve, but it is worth it to see the smile on Em’s face when she sees them. Today’s arrangement is a mixture of pink and white with Christmas greens and metallic pink and lime green ribbons, which just so happens to match our Christmas tree that I put up for Em. The tree is beautiful. It is ten feet tall covered in over one thousand white lights. There are crystal icicles and snowflakes and an assortment of shades of pink and lime green ornaments ranging in size from big as a grapefruit to as small as a plum. I also have artificial pink gerbera daisies mixed in. There is a large mesh pink bow with long streamers cascading all the way around and down the tree. Em was both speechless and breathless when she saw it, which was exactly what I wanted.

  I place the arrangement on the bedside table and lean down to kiss Em. I‘ve been drinking. Guilt is probably visible all over my face. I sure hope she doesn’t smell it on my breath. Before her illness, I was never one to just drink. I might get a glass of wine with dinner or a beer on a boy’s night out, but never would I sit home and drink whiskey.

  My hope vanishes when Em says, “Have you been drinking, Benson? I can smell whiskey on your breath.”

  I avert my gaze. Not able to look her in the eyes. “I only had one drink to help me relax.”

  I can see her warring with her emotions, but she still reaches down and pulls me back down for another kiss. “I love you, Benson. You’re my everything. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  My eyes are shiny with the tears that I am fighting. “As you are mine. Nothing will ever change that.”

  I’ve been sleeping on the couch a lot lately. I don’t want to disturb her sleep because she has been so restless. I can’t say no when Em asks, “Will you sleep in bed with me tonight? I just need you to hold me close.”

  “I can never say no to you. Santa will have to pull me away to keep me from holding you all night long.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Benson

  I just want to go and hide in my office with my best friend Crown and drink away all that is eating me from the inside out. I have an awful feeling that this may be the last time I feel my wife’s warm body up next to mine. Look at me, I’m pathetic. All I can think about is getting another drink to make me forget. Em’s love and strength pull me back out of my selfish thoughts.

  She pats the bed. “Come join me.”

  I smile at her, but I know my smile doesn’t reach my eyes. “Okay, sweetheart. Just let me go brush my teeth and get into something more comfortable.”

  Rushing into the bathroom, I hopefully brush away the smell of whiskey. I pull off my red sweater, which I only wore because Em loves it, and then slide off my charcoal pants leaving me in just my black Calvin Klein briefs and my soft heather gray undershirt. I find my Santa face pajama pants and slide them on.

  I’m greeted by the sound of Em’s chuckle, which is followed by a horrible coughing fit. After the coughing subsides, she laughs and winks. “Don’t you just look too sexy in your Santa pants?”

  I wink back at her. “I aim to please. I thought you’d find these irresistible. I know all about your love of bearded men.”

  “That’s it. You figured me out. I have secretly been lusting over Santa all these years. Didn’t you know that’s why I told you not to shave your beard after ‘no shave November’ was long over?”

  “Well, damn. I just thought you wanted me to keep role playing a lumberjack.”

  This right here is us. This was supposed to be us until we were old and gray. She has made loving and living so easy. And fun. God, has our life together been fun.

  “Before you climb into bed, go put on some fuzzy socks.” Em looks at me with such seriousness. “I don’t want you rubbing your stinking cold feet on my legs.”

  “But, you’re always so hot, baby. You warm them right up.”

  She picks up one of our decorative throw pillows and throws it at my head.

  Being the dutiful husband, I put on the ugliest pair of Em’s fuzzy Christmas socks and climb into bed. I raise up my foot and wiggle my toes. “Happy now?”

  “Deliriously so, my love. You always make me happy.” Em leans into me and nuzzles her head in my chest.

  She feels hot, but her skin is clammy. I stroke her hair and tell her over and over how much I love her. She will never doubt the love I have for her. Just like I have never doubted the love she has for me.

  It doesn’t take long for Em to fall asleep. I can’t sleep, so I sit here just watching her breathe. I feel a bit
like a creeper. Her sleep is restless. Her breathing is labored at times, and she moans out in pain in her sleep. Marley comes in and administers pain meds twice.

  Em wakes up around seven-thirty on Christmas morning. She has no energy and can’t even push herself up into sitting on the bed. She manages a small smile and mouths Merry Christmas. Her mouth is so dry that she can’t speak the words. I reach over to the nightstand and scoop out a tiny ice chip from the glass Marley brought into the room a few minutes ago.

  She manages to swallow it down, but not without coughing. On a whisper, she says, “Thank you. Merry Christmas. I love you.”

  I touch my lips to hers for a soft kiss. Oh, how I long for the deep passionate kisses she used to give me.

  We hear noise in the kitchen, so we know everyone else is awake.

  I ever so gently pull Em’s robe up her now frail arms and shoulders. It’s unbelievable how fast this disease can make you waste away. After pulling on the robe, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to the living room and gently place her in the recliner.

  Marley, Mitch, and Henry are all sitting on our large sectional drinking orange juice and eating cinnamon raisin bagels. Everyone stopped drinking coffee when Em wasn’t able to swallow liquids safely a few days ago. It would not be fair to her since she loves it so much.

  “Merry Christmas, boys. Marley.”

  They all three, at the same time, say, “Merry Christmas.”

  Mitch and Henry stand up and go over to their mother, kissing the top of her head and gingerly hugging her. It is so hard to hide the devastation on my face when I see the love and sadness on the boy’s faces. It is like a knife to my chest knowing this will be our last Christmas together with their mother.

  Em clears her throat and whispers out, “Who’s ready to open presents? Are you on the naughty or nice list? Marley, will you please go and bring my gifts out? They are in the hope chest at the foot of my bed.”

  Em didn’t want me to get her anything. She thought it would be pointless since she isn’t going to be here much longer. When she said that, I wanted to die myself. What she doesn’t know is that I had her gift custom made months ago. Before she was even diagnosed. Henry plays Santa and goes to the tree to gather and hand out presents.

  I pick up the long, skinny box delicately wrapped in silver foil paper with a red ribbon. I hand it to Em, and she drops her head down. “I thought I asked you not to get me anything.”

  “Baby, you knew I would never go for that. Besides, I had this commissioned for you a few months ago.”

  Em gasps when she unwraps the box and sees the unmistakable blue box from Tiffany & Co. “Wha-wha-what is it?” she manages to stutter out.

  “Open it up and see silly girl.” It takes her a second to open the lid. My heart is drumming in my chest watching and waiting for her response.

  Em opens the lid and then closes her eyes and covers her mouth with her dainty hands. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. “Benson, this is the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. I’m at a loss for words. Will you put it on me?”

  I pull out the one of a kind gerbera daisy pendant made from pink diamonds. Marley gasps when she sees it.

  “These are precious and rare pink diamonds from Brazil. I explained what I wanted to the jeweler at Tiffany’s. They found these exquisite pink diamonds, and I knew it would be perfect.”

  Em’s smile actually lights up her face and her green eyes sparkle when Marley hands her a small mirror so she can see it on her neck. She wraps her fingers around the pendant and puts it up to touch her lips in a kiss.

  The room is silent as each and every one of us wipe tears from our eyes.

  I hand the boys cards that have five hundred dollars cash for each of them. I’m not near as creative when it comes to my adult children. I’m sure Em has something amazing for them.

  “My turn,” says Em. She has three identical size boxes and one bigger box, which she hands to Marley. “Okay, hurry up and open them!” she says.

  We open our boxes to find matching smart watches. Em explains that they may look alike, but each one is special. She tells us to go to the pictures. I open it up to find an album filled with precious memories of our years together. Starting with us as goofy teens at the lake, our Vegas wedding photo, the birth of the boys and memories all the way up until now. Mitch and Henry are swallowing hard, as am I to hold in the emotions.

  “Is this what you’ve been working on in the afternoons with Marley when you won’t let me in our room?”

  “Guilty as charged. I just wanted you to each have something with you always that you could look at to know I’m here.” She points to her heart. “You were my never-ending gift. I hope you can see and remember the love in my eyes in each one of these photos.”

  Both Mitch and Henry drop to their knees in front of their mother and hug her leg like they won’t ever let go. “This is perfect, Momma,” says Henry.

  “There is nothing I would rather have,” says Mitch. “This is priceless.”

  Marley looks at Em and then me and says, “Thank you for the purse. It was too much, but I absolutely love it. This is the purse you saw me eyeing when we were out shopping this summer.”

  “It sure is,” says Em. “I went back and bought it when I told you I had to go to the bathroom.”

  It’s a struggle now for Em to just sit here and carry on a conversation and it kills me to see her fading so fast. Each day she is becoming a shell of the vibrant woman she once was. It’s not fucking fair. “Em, you look tired. Maybe you should lay back down while we start preparing Christmas dinner.”

  “That’s probably best. My head is really starting to hurt. I love you all so much.”

  Em gets one more kiss from the boys, and I pick her up and walk her to our bedroom. She nuzzles her face in my neck as I carry her. “I can’t believe you designed this necklace for me. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Thank you.” She slides her fingers down my cheek softly, and peppers kisses on my face.

  I gently lay Em down on the bed and pull the covers up to her chin. She immediately closes her eyes. The exhaustion and pain are clear as day on her face. She is so small in this king-size bed. It looks like it could eat her up. I lean down and kiss her head. “Rest my love. I will see you when you wake up.”

  I go into the kitchen to see if Marley and the boys need any help. They assure me they have it covered. I need to call Alan and check and make sure he made it to Hawaii okay. I go into my office and close the door behind me. I turn on the baby monitor I purchased so I could hear Em if she needs me. I can hear her labored breathing and my anxiety peaks. I look down at the watch on my wrist, too afraid to open up the photos. It is too painful. Right now, all I can see is what I am losing. Of course, I didn’t tell Em that. I know this will be my most treasured gift, but now, I just can’t do it. Reaching into the bar, I pick up the signature velvet bag and pull out the only thing that has helped me to forget.

  A few minutes later, Mitch enters my office. “Damn it, Dad. Are you really fucking going to do this today? Today of all days? It is Christmas! What is to be our last Christmas with Mom. Just what the hell are you thinking? She’s lying in that bed fighting for her life, and you’re what, going to drown your sorrows? She fucking needs you. We need you. It’s not fair to her to see you drunk. This isn’t you. You don’t drink. God knows I want to drink away my pain, but I won’t. Get your shit together, or you’re the one that will be living with regret. Think about that before you pour another drink.”

  My face heats as I rub the back of my neck in agitation. How dare my son talk to me that way? I avoid eye contact with him and pace the room. Clenching my jaw, I practically scream out, “You will never be able to understand how I am feeling, and I pray to God that you never have to find out.”

  Mitch looks conflicted. Like he doesn’t know what to say next. In a less than enthusiastic tone he says, “Forget it, Dad. Do what you want. Like I said, you will have to live with this,
not me.” He walks out with his head down, shutting the door behind him.

  I know he is right and as mad as I am at how he talked to me, I am grateful that he did. I put the lid on the bottle and call Alan.

  The phone rings three times before the voicemail picks up. He must be out and about. I leave a message at the tone wishing him a Merry Christmas, telling him I will talk to him soon.

  I turn off the monitor and leave the room, joining Marley and the boys in the kitchen. Mitch gives me an apologetic smile when I make eye contact with him. I nod my head in acknowledgment of my stupidity.

  Marley turns to me with her damn sympathetic eyes. “I put the turkey on this morning. It has approximately thirty more minutes to cook and then I can put in the baked beans and dressing. Dinner will be ready in about two hours.”

  Marley shoos us all out of the kitchen saying, “You men go watch some football. I’ve got this taken care of.”

  Two hours later, Marley lets us know it’s time to eat. We go wash up, and then I go into our room to see if Em is awake. She’s awake but still looks exhausted. She doesn’t even hear me come in. It is like she is in another world. She is staring off into the distance with a faraway look on her face.

  “Em,” I say, and I touch her lightly on the arm. She startles and then smiles at me.

  “I’m sorry, Benson. How long have you been in here? I was just thinking back to that time I tried to make a cinnamon sugar pound cake at your grandmother’s that first Christmas after we were married. Little did I know she kept salt in her sugar jar. I made what I thought was a cinnamon and sugar mixture to sprinkle on top before I put it in the oven.”