If I Lose Her (24 page)

 It took
several days before I could muster the strength, but I also started taking my
camera out and capturing little moments when she was up. One in black and white
of her sitting looking out of the window with the glow of the morning light
shining off of her smooth head like a halo. Another of her sleeping with her
hand grasping mine like a newborn child.

 The
chocolate cake I had bought her had melted into oblivion without ever being
tasted. Long after it was past due I took the box into the kitchen and threw it
in the trash.

 One
afternoon while I was reading Jo some Sylvia Plath, her mother came into the
room carrying a large towel.

 “Jo honey.
I’ve run you some water. How does a bath sound?”

 I set the
book down and rose to excuse myself.

 “Wait,” Jo
whispered not having the strength for anything else. Then she motioned for her
mother to come closer.

 Samantha
bent over and listened as Jo whispered something into her ear. Her eyes
widened. There was a pause.

 “She’d like
you to do it,” she said with a simple nod. Then she left the room.

 Jo lay there
looking at me.

 “What do I
do?”

 She lifted
the covers. I pulled the covers back away from her. Then she lifted the button
on her nightgown. I swallowed. I had seen Jo naked many times but only when she
was healthy.

 A part of me
was scared.

 I unbuttoned
her nightgown all the way down the middle and laid it open. She didn’t take her
eyes off of me.

 Lying there
she reminded me of a flower that was nearly past its time. Her skin was like
the fleshy petals that have become nothing more than a veined membrane. Her
color was nearly gone.

 I carefully
helped her arms out of the sleeves of the robe then she touched her pelvis. I
gently removed her underwear and draped her in the large towel that her mother
had brought into the room when she had come. I picked her up off of the bed and
carried her into the bathroom where a tub of warm water with a special rubber
seat was waiting. As I carried her she leaned her forehead against my cheek.

 I lowered
her into the water and set the towel aside. Then I filled a sponge with soap and
carefully wiped her neck and shoulders. She just watched me. I dipped the
sponge in the warm water and wiped down her neck and breasts, her arms and
stomach. I put the sponge into the water and ran it down the length of each leg
and squeezed the tip of each toe. She lifted her wet arms and put them around
my neck as I leaned her forward so that I could wipe down her back. Then she
kissed my cheek. I stopped and looked at her. She closed her eyes and I kissed
her. In that kiss all the strength I had left went away. Even through all of
this she still tasted exactly the same, she still felt like the girl I had
first kissed that night after we watched some bohemians juggle spheres of fire
next to the river in Downtown. For just a moment our entire universe was in
that kiss; for just a moment we were both happy and safe.

 When we were
finished I pulled the plug on the bath and let the water slowly sink down the
drain.

 I took the
towel, wiped away each bead of water then laid it over her naked form. I lifted
her out of the tub and carried her back to bed. While we were gone someone,
probably Samantha, had changed the sheets and laid down two fresh towels for Jo
to be laid on. There was a tap on the door.

 “It takes
two of us to get her into her robe,” Samantha said as she entered the room with
a fresh cotton robe hanging over one arm.

 Samantha
toweled Jo off a little more then told me, “If you will lift her I will lay the
robe out so that you can lay her down in it.” So I lifted Jo up off of the bed.

 Samantha laid
the robe out like a blanket beneath her naked daughter while Jo did not take
her eyes off of me. Then I set her down and Samantha buttoned her up.

 “Thank you,”
Jo whispered. Then she closed her eyes.

 She did not
wake that night even when I climbed into bed next to her.

 I fell
asleep watching her breathing.

 She did not
wake the next day.

 Her parents
brought me food while I waited by her side.

 That night I
fell asleep, again, watching her breathing.

 I woke the
next morning happy to see that she was still there, still pushing the sheets up
and down slowly.

 “Has she
slept this long before?” I asked when her mother came in to check on her, like
she did every morning.

 She just
shook her head.

 That
afternoon her mother, father and sister spent most of the day with me right by
Jo’s side, not wanting to miss anything. Then, as darkness fell on another day,
they went off to their rooms one by one. I needed a shower desperately so I
decided to grab a quick one before everyone was in bed. When I came back I saw
through the slit of the barely open door, Jo’s dad with his hand on the side of
Jo’s face and his cheek against her forehead, just crying.

 “Oh, my baby
girl,” he whispered. “I am so sorry I couldn’t take this all away. I love you
so much. I’ll miss you so much. But, it’s time for you to go. You don’t have to
hold on for us any more. You don’t have to be strong for us any more. Just let
go. Let go baby, just let go.”

 I leaned
against the wall and waited. A few minutes later he came out and patted my
shoulder.

 I wiped the
tears from Jo’s forehead and sat looking at her.

 “There’s so
much I wish I could tell you,” I said taking her hand. “You were by far the
best part of me. The best choice I ever made. If I could climb to heaven and
plead with God to let you live I would, but I am not strong enough. I don’t
know the way. There’s so much I wish we could have done together, so many
places I wish we could have seen. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that
you know that I will love you for the rest of my life. I will never forget you.
I swear that if I live to see my 80
^th
birthday I will still look
back and remember how you were the best thing that had ever happened to me. I
love you so much more than I ever knew was possible. Good night my love. Sleep
well.”    

 Then I
kissed her hand and climbed into bed next to her. I gently laid my hand on her
chest so that I could feel her breath as I walked down that long corridor of
slumber. I wanted to feel her moving for as long as possible. Then I was gone.

 As I began
to wake the next morning I slid my hand across the sheets when I realized that
there was no one lying in the bed next to me.

 
They’ve
taken her!

 I panicked
and sat straight up. Then I turned.

 Jo was
sitting next to the window listening to the birds singing in the back yard.

 She turned
and looked at me with a smile.

 “Hey you,”
she said.

 Five years
have passed since that morning when I saw your mother awake, sitting by the
window, listening to the birds sing their morning song, and right now you’re
barely old enough to talk. But, I wanted you to know something of the stories
behind the photographs in this album, something about your mother; something
that she couldn’t tell you herself.

 There will
be more photographs, but they will be your photographs.

 These were
mine.