Chapter 15
Riva listened closely as Marcus shared. He explained how he was close to forty by the time he was discharged from the Air Force and done with college.
He met Anne shortly after starting his first teaching job at a local middle school.
“Anne was an administrative aide there. But she didn’t really like working with teenagers.
Maybe because she wasn’t that much older than they were.
I actually thought she was a student at first.” He paused to smile at a couple walking by with two small children.
“I think I was drawn to her youthful free spirit, although I’ll admit her beauty pulled me in too.
I couldn’t believe someone like her was interested in an old codger like me.
At first I thought it was because I’d encouraged her to finish her degree and become a kindergarten teacher.
But then we got married and I helped her to actually do it.
” He cleared his throat. “But after nearly fifteen years of what I thought was a happy marriage, Anne got really restless. She called it her midlife crisis . . . and at the same time I was actually considering an early retirement and travel. Anyway, Anne was done with teaching, done with marriage, done with me, it seemed. She left me to spread her wings. I assumed that was the end of our marriage and that she would file for divorce. But she didn’t.
I was pretty miserable. Then, not even a year later, she got a diagnosis for leukemia . . .”
“Oh, wow.”
“She was still on my health insurance and begged me to take her back so she could get treatment. Of course, I welcomed her back. She apologized for hurting me and was very grateful for my help. We got her the best medical treatments available. She wanted to survive, but she hated how the chemo and radiation made her lose her hair and feel so sick. And who could blame her? After more than a year, her cancer was winning. Anne was worn out and fed up. That’s when she brought up the idea .
. . of physician-assisted suicide. I was not onboard and I told her so. ”
Riva nodded. “Sort of like what the speaker just said about family members’ objections and why it needs to be the patient’s right to decide?”
“Uh-huh. I guess those words struck a bad chord with me. Like you, I don’t want to judge anyone.
And I didn’t want to impose my standards on Anne, but I wasn’t ready to condone it.
I was mostly just confused. Anne was going downhill fast that spring and when school let out for summer break, I assured her I would devote my whole summer to caring for her.
And I did. I worked with hospice to monitor her care, to keep her out of pain.
I did all the housekeeping, shopping, laundry .
. . everything. I made her special smoothies and did whatever I could to help her.
But she wasn’t getting better. Then one day, after the hospice nurse arrived to help her bathe, Anne handed me a detailed list for the grocery store.
I should’ve been suspicious since she had no appetite, but her favorite foods were on the list so I thought maybe she was rallying.
By the time I got home, Anne was gone. The nurse was still there, explaining how Anne had died peacefully.
That helped some, but I felt so let down.
It felt like Anne had intentionally sent me out of the house because she knew she was dying.
And that really hurt.” His eyes were filled with tears now.
“Oh, Marcus, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been so hard on you. But maybe it was her way of sparing you that pain of seeing her . . . go.” Riva remembered her own last day with Paul. “It’s not easy.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. But after all I’d done, taking Anne back and caring for her, I just felt sort of tricked.
I know that must sound selfish, but the truth is, I was a mess.
I was even pretty angry for a while.” Tears trickled down his tanned cheeks, and Riva didn’t know what to say or do.
So she hugged him. He held tightly to her, and they embraced for a long moment.
She could feel his sobs, or were they her own?
It was hard to tell. Finally, she felt him relax, and she released her hold on him and sat back.
“Are we having our own mini grief group here?” she asked as she fished a couple fresh tissues from her walking purse, sharing one with him. “I came prepared.”
“Thanks.” He blew his nose. “And thanks for listening.”
“I’m so sorry for all you went through,” she said.
“Thanks.” He blew out a deep breath. “I never told anyone all that before.”
“I can understand how today’s topic would stir up old feelings.”
“Especially unresolved ones.”
“Are they unresolved?” she asked.
He paused for a moment before answering. “I’m not sure. I suppose I thought they were. Good grief, it’ll be six years next month. But I think what still bothers me is that I can’t remember if I ever told Anne that I forgave her.”
“For leaving you?”
“Yeah, and to be honest, I’m not sure I had forgiven her at that time. I mean, when she died I think I was still working on it. Have you heard the quote that it’s easier to forgive an enemy than a friend?”
She nodded. “Probably even more true with a spouse who hurt you.”
“I know. But I still feel bad to think she left this world with my unforgiveness weighing on her.”
“But she must’ve known, Marcus. I mean, you took her back, you took care of her. If actions speak louder than words, she’d have to have known.”
“Maybe so. But if I’d only known she was about to go, if she hadn’t sent me out with that list, maybe I’d have been there and I could have told her . . . before it was too late.”
“Maybe you still can. Why can’t you tell her now?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. A friend sent me a poem after Paul passed.” She pulled out her phone. “I keep it in my notes to read sometimes. I haven’t read it recently. I guess maybe I should.” She pulled it up.
“Want to read it now?” he asked.
She looked at him. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Please.”
“It’s called ‘Death Is Nothing at All’ by Henry Scott-Holland.
” She started to read. “‘Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened.’” She continued with a part about speaking to the departed in the same way, saying their name without solemnity or sorrow and enjoying the jokes they once shared.
And finally, she read the last line. “‘How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!’”
“Do you believe that?” he asked. “That you will laugh over your husband’s parting?”
“I try to believe it.” She slid her phone back into her bag. “I’ll admit that sometimes I believe it more than others. But I do find it reassuring.”
“So you think I can just tell Anne that I’ve forgiven her? That I forgave her?”
Riva shrugged. “I’m no expert on this, but I can’t see that it would hurt to try.”
“I guess I’d like to think about that some.
I don’t think I can do it right now, but I’m open to the idea.
” He stood, then reached for her hand. “At the moment, I’m distracted by my stomach.
I feel more hungry than sad. In exchange for your helpful grief counseling, can I take you to a late lunch, or have you already eaten? ”
She let him pull her up. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“O’Malley’s is just a couple blocks away. You in?”
“In like Flynn, as Fiona would say.”
As they walked toward O’Malley’s, Marcus made small talk, but Riva was still mulling over his sad story about Anne. What an awful way to say goodbye . . . to not even have the chance. At least she’d had a better parting with Paul. That was something to be thankful for.
Fiona’s brows arched as Marcus and Riva came into the bistro. Not wanting Fiona to assume this was a date, Riva quickly explained the unplanned meeting at the library. “We sort of skipped out on grief group today,” she confessed, “and then realized we were both hungry.”
“Hunger and grief?” Fiona shook her head. “’Tis a bad mix for certain.”
After placing their orders and sitting down, Marcus asked Riva about her own experience with Paul. “If you need to talk, I’m a good listener too.”
“Since you shared your story, I’ll tell you a bit of mine.
The condensed version. Who knows, it might help me to sort some things out.
” She took a deep breath before diving in.
“Paul was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer, which is the worst kind. He’d never been a smoker, but both his parents smoked like chimneys when he was a child.
Anyway, it took us by surprise. He’d seemed in great health and rarely went to the doctor.
But he did have some shortness of breath that he attributed to aging.
Other than that, he had no pain or symptoms. If he hadn’t gone in to have his heart checked, which was my suggestion due to the shortness of breath, we might not have even known about the cancer. ”
“I’ve heard lung cancer can be very stealthy.”
Riva sipped her water, preparing herself to continue.
“Anyway, by the time we got his diagnosis, it was similar to Anne’s .
. . he was in the final stages of lung cancer.
He retired from practicing law, and we threw ourselves into finding the best medical treatment.
I was so optimistic. I really thought we could beat it.
I even took him to the Mayo Clinic. I thought our insurance would cover the treatment, but it didn’t.
Since Paul was self-employed, our insurance was less than stellar.
After the first year of doing everything we could to win the battle, we were told it was hopeless .
. . and our savings were depleted. Short of a miracle, his condition was terminal. ”
Marcus grimaced. “I know how hard that was to hear.”