Authors: Sarah White
Chapter 18
Matt
The weight, or lack of weight really, against my back is devastating. I
am doing everything I can to not break down in front of Court. Watching her
struggle in the sand and then be too weak to make it back to the car is
absolutely killing me. We used to run as fast as we could down to the
shore and sometimes race back to the bikes, now I am carrying her boney body
back to my truck as she rests her head on my back.
Maybe I should not have come, maybe I should have told her they wouldn’t let
me. As I take each step I feel my heart sink lower as the sand gives way
under my feet. Mom and Dad would have wanted me here with her, staying by
her side until she leaves to meet them. Surely they could understand that
watching her die is too much. Losing my fellow Marines was hard, losing
my parents was harder,
losing
Court is going to break
me.
Cait walks along beside me, breathing shallowly even though her feet are
sinking heavily also. I can imagine that the pain in her chest is just
like mine, grabbing my heart and my lungs and squeezing so that only a small
breath can enter and then leave again sharply. The walk to my truck is a
short one for me but I saver every moment Court is near me knowing that this
may be the last time we are all on this beach together. She is going to
die. I can’t fix it. I can’t stop it. I just have to survive it.
Chapter 19
Cait
When we get to the truck Matt helps her up to the back seat so that she can
lay
down as we drive back home. We stop at a small
liquor store at the edge of town to get some beer and then grab some take-out
before returning to the house. Once home I help Court into a hot bath.
I would never believe how fast someone’s health could deteriorate if I was not
watching it with my own eyes.
“Cait, tonight’s conversation is going to be hard for Matt. I know I am
all that he has left. I don’t care how much he needs to drink, or you too
for that matter but we need to get some things straight. I don’t think
there are going to be many more days where I can tell you what I need to tell
you.”
I sit back against the wall and rest my head. She is right, I can see it
in her face. I fight the urge to call Candy and ask for a new predicted
day of death for Court. It is all out of my hands and the anxiety is
overwhelming. All I can do is reassure her that I am okay so that she can
do what she needs to do. “Court he is going to be fine, and so will I.” She
closes her eyes and the tears stream down her face. I hand her the rag
and she sobs into it. The bones of her spine are visible and she sits in
the fetal position crying silently into the rag as I rub her back and
head.
When there is no energy left to cry, I help her out of the tub and dry her
off. We put on her warm pajamas, wrap her head in a scarf and go to her
room where all of her medication is laid out on her dresser. She asks me to get
her some pain medicine and I begin to look through the bottles to find what she
needs. It is a horrible reality to know that none of these pills can save
her and even worse to know that in order to get all of these medications she
and her doctor had to decide they were done fighting it. Hospice is
brought in to make you comfortable, not to prolong your life.
After finding the correct medication and taking a quick shower myself, I help
her to the couch so that we can have our talk. I can hear Matt in the
kitchen so I go in to see if he is ready. He is leaning against the
counter much like he had been this morning but now he looks so different.
He
is
clearly a few beers ahead of
us
now and he looks up to me with watery eyes. I can see that he
has just gotten out of the shower.
“She is ready but she just took some medicine that I know will make her
sleepy. You can do this, she won’t be able to talk long so let’s just
hear her out and then put her to bed.” I grab a pad of paper and a pen
from the drawer and then grab his hand and lead him to the doorway. We
stand for a second and watch her rock on the couch. She is in pain and it
is excruciating to watch knowing there is nothing we can do.
We make our way to the couch and sit on either side of her. She never
looks up but stops rocking to try to hide the pain. Matt wraps his arms
around her and leans back so that she is lying on his chest. He rubs her
arms to try to warm her and she smiles as she lowers her shoulders and
rests.
“I don’t want a funeral,” she says bluntly and I look to my pad trying to
decide if I really need to write that down. “I want to be cremated and my
ashes given to you both. I took you to the place I want my ashes
scattered today. Please don’t invite anyone when you do it, just walk
down at sunset and scatter them where the waves meet the shore.”
Matt throws his head back and bites his upper lip as the tears start falling
down his cheeks. He shakes his head as if to tell us it is too much but
then pulls himself together with a big breath. I am not doing much better
myself and I am having a hard time taking notes through the tears that are
flowing from my eyes. I think that nothing could be worse at this moment
but then she continues.
“I want to die in my room in my bed. There shouldn’t be anyone visiting
so unless Candy happens to be here it should be just the three of us and that
is how I want it. I just want to be as comfortable as possible.
Candy said when the time comes you can call her and she will get the doctor out
here to call my death and they take care of it from there. I don’t care what
you do with my clothes or any of my belongings. I have met with a lawyer
regarding the house and it is yours if you want it Matt or you can sell
it. They left it to me when they left with the church and I am giving it
to you but I know you have no roots here so don’t feel guilty if you let it
go.
Cait, please take what you want of my jewelry and anything else you like and
then help Matt pack up my stuff and drop it off at any donation place you would
like. I met a young woman during chemo that had to take two buses to get
to treatment so I have signed my car over to her and left her number on the
fridge next to Candy’s. Please call her when it is time for her to come
get it. It helps me to have peace knowing I may help her beat this.”
Chapter 20
Matt
Please God. Make. It. Stop. I am just shy of thirty years
old,
I should not be hearing my sister’s last wishes.
There is not enough alcohol in the world to get me through this
conversation. I am so glad that Cait is here, helping my sister keep
talking because if it were just
me
I would have to
make her stop. She needs to tell us but it just makes things so
final. She wants it to be just
us,
she wants to
be in her room, all things that I should never have to be going over with a
woman in her twenties. There is no fucking justice in this world.
When our parent’s died I promised her we would be with each other
forever. The social worker that managed our case when we entered the
foster care system had told us that finding a home that would take both of us
would be near impossible. I refused to let her separate us and told her I
would stop eating if she tried to. She eventually got the message that
maybe other siblings could be separated but we could not. Our
determination to stay together got us bounced around a lot but in the end we
always had each other. I don’t know how to be Matt without Court.
The pain has not left my chest from this morning’s walk on the beach. I
know why she picked the
place,
it was all of our
happiest places. The memories that are there at that beach are
remarkable, so vivid there are times I can swear I can smell the salt and taste
the water. It is the perfect place to spread her ashes, but damn it, now
is not the perfect time. Years ago Court and I spread our parent’s ashes
at the very same place. When we carry out those wishes and we leave her there
on that beach, a huge part of me will always be with her. I know this is
true because as she continues to share with Cait I can feel my heart breaking
in preparation for when I must leave it with her on that shoreline.
Chapter 21
Cait
At this point Matt is chugging a beer while the tears stream down his
cheeks. Court and I are not doing much better and we pause for a minute
to try to relax. I hand her some tissue and grab a few for myself.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
“Please take care of each other. You both are alone but you don’t have to
be. Promise me that you will call each other on Christmas. I know
it sounds silly but it is important to me. Don’t talk about me, just
where you are and how life is going. Matt please come home every time you
deploy and Cait please don’t ever go back to Elliot, he doesn’t deserve you.”
Matt and I nod because it would be impossible to speak. Then Court tells
us she is tired and needs to
lay
down again and Matt
carries her to her room while I put my head in my hands and sob. I wish I
could swallow a handful of those pain medications and relieve the grip this
sadness has on my heart. I hear Matt close her door and he returns to the
living room and heads straight for his beer. He doesn’t look at me and I
am grateful as we both stare out the window as the
sun sets
.
After each of us finish a few beers Matt finally looks at me and I can see his
eyes are glazed over from the tears and alcohol. “What happened between
you and Elliot, Cait?” he asks. I take another drink of my beer and struggle
with where to even start.
“It was great for a while, we traveled after finishing school. We talked
about starting a family and we bought a house...you know, the American
Dream. I had trouble getting pregnant and it started to wear on us.
We did a few rounds of fertility treatments and just when I thought I couldn’t
take it anymore we got pregnant. It was such a roller coaster, sadness
then happiness then sadness again. I lost the baby at four months and was
terribly depressed. I wanted to try again but Elliot said he
couldn’t. He had decided he wasn’t ready for children and that maybe it
was a blessing.” Hearing myself say that was as horrible as hearing
Elliot say it. I will never understand how he could say that losing a
baby was a blessing.
“He said that to you? He is an asshole Cait, she is right he doesn’t
deserve you.” Matt says as he shakes his head in disgust.
“I guess we all grieve in our own ways. I had trouble sleeping, didn’t
want to work and threw up anything I tried to eat and he ran off with his
secretary. My life turned into a fucking cliché.”
“You want to hear cliché?” he says laughing. “I spent three years with a
girl who broke it off when I deployed and climbed into bed with my best
friend...now that is a ‘fucking cliché’.”
We both laugh at how ridiculous life has become for us and finish our
beers. I start to feel very sleepy and I rest my head on the big pillow
behind me. Matt watches me for a while and then says, “So what are the
chances I get to go home with the lady with wonderful smelling hair? No
touching again I promise, same deal as before I will be out before Court wakes
up.” I nod my head yes without hesitation this time because I know if I go
to bed alone I might be the first person to actually drown in her own
grief.
“You didn’t keep your promise last night,” I say closing my eyes that are now
so heavy I can’t keep them open.
“I was out before she woke up,” he says half telling me, half asking me.
“You spooned me in your sleep,” I say to him this time managing to open my eyes
and look at him, “rather aggressively too,” I laugh.
“I did not!” he says but then adds, “Did I?”
We both laugh and he puts down his beer and stands over me in the chair.
“You must not have fought it Cait because I’ve seen you fight.” With that
he scoops me up and carries me to the bedroom. I am emotionally drained
and feel as though I have been up for days. I roll to my side and close
my eyes while pulling the covers over my shoulder.
I can feel the warmth
of his body under the covers and I want so badly to roll back over and rest my
head on his chest. I wonder what I would have done if he hadn’t come
home, how could I have done this alone? I can feel his arm above my head
and I roll over to look him in the eye. I can remember when Elliot had
done this early in our marriage, an invitation to rest my head on his chest and
I do not hesitate to feel his warmth. As I rest my head on him he wraps his
arm around me and then closes his eyes. I was married to Elliot for nine
years and never did I feel as at home as I do in Matt’s arms. I close my
eyes and allow myself to feel needed.
When I wake up I am alone again. I can hear voices in the
living room and I realize Candy is here already and it is still very
early. I jump out of bed and run down the hall to see what’s the
matter. Matt is standing there in his sweats with his hands on his hips
and his face up to the sky. I know it is not good and I start asking,
“What? What?” He grabs me and tucks my head into his neck in a tight
embrace.
“She’s okay, she is just too sick to get out of bed now. They have
increased her medication and she is now going to be on liquid morphine.
We need to give it to her every four hours no matter what.” Matt is still
holding me when I start to cry. Candy leaves and I hear the screen door
shut. I wrap my arms around him and cry. He rubs my back and kisses
my cheek. “She is okay, Cait.”
“They told her two weeks Matt and it has only been three days.” I
suddenly feel like time is speeding by. I step back and look at
him. He lifts my chin with his hand and stares into my eyes.
“It’s going to be quick from here Cait. I have seen this before.
Once they give morphine and they can’t get out of bed it happens fast. I
talked to her this morning at the end of one dose before I gave her the next
and said my goodbyes, you should do the same.” His eyes are full of tears
but he is holding it together for me.
Rage and sadness begin to battle within me. Time is meaningless and holds
no value when a life has been brought down to this level.
Four hour
increments is how she is going to live out her
last days. What it must be like to wake in pain and wait for the
medication to work so that you can drift out of consciousness again just to
wake bake up in pain. Knowing at this moment that I would give anything
to trade places with her, to offer her the life I no longer want but my offer
is empty because I don’t’ hold that power.
I shake my head and try to stop the sobs. “Okay, you’re right. When is my
window?” I say starting to feel like I might pass out. The irony of a
window being a way out, a passage for fresh air does not escape me. The
window I am seeking is to darkness, a passage to a deeper hurt, a small are of
space where I will tell her all the things I thought I would have a lifetime to
tell her.
“You have about an hour. She is due for another dose then so she should be
awake and we don’t want her to be in pain so you have to finish it before the
next one sets in.” Pleading is the first emotion I register in his
eyes. It is the need for understanding that I use my time wisely and then
allow her the peace the morphine can offer. Don’t make her suffer.
I nod my head letting him know I heard and then head back to my room for a
break. I lie down on my bed and put my arm up over my eyes again. I
can hear my phone buzzing but at this point I don’t care. The only person
that matters is Court and she is not calling because she is down the hall
dying. The tears start rolling down my cheeks and I try to cry as quietly
as possible. Hearing the footsteps approaching my door I freeze, hoping
my momentary loss of sanity will go unnoticed. Matt stop just outside my door
and I imagine him putting his hand on the knob but when it doesn’t turn I know
that he was going to give me my space.