"Redolent" Part 5

There was a comfortable silence that hung in the room long after the tears had stopped. I don't know how much time had passed as we just sat there. We seemed content with the companionship, visiting our own ghosts.

After a time Sammy came in and checked his vitals. "How's your pain, do you need me to up the meds a bit?"

"I think I'm alright for now Sam, thanks."

"Do you need anything Mrs. Log-er, Jillian?"
"You know, I need to stretch my legs here in a bit. I'll come down in a little while and make us all lunch."
Sammy finished checking and fluffing until she appeared satisfied that he was thoroughly comfortable, and left the room.


"Why did you never tell me any of this before?" I asked, feeling as if we were ready now for questions and answers.


Dad let out a long slow breath and gently smoothed the blanket around his torso, gathering his thoughts. Finally he looked up at me and gave me the most honest answer I could ask for, "A thousand reasons. But probably not one good enough."
"I don't need a thousand." I said, meeting his gaze.

"I think I was in denial for several years that your Mom was even in trouble. Looking back, she was symptomatic for probably three years before the diagnosis came down. By the time the doctor's told us it was Huntington's, you were eighteen. We had already been in a routine of worry and care for quite some time. So, I guess at first, it just seemed natural that we would all continue on in what we had been doing." He had a look in his eyes that made him seem to be many years away right then. Like he was seeing all off it being played back in his mind's eye.

"We all loved her so much-"he cut off as a dry sob shook his body and he fought to regain control before he spoke again. "the fact that her condition was permanent just didn't matter. She had always taken care of us so completely. There was just this unspoken commitment between all of us, that we would now take care of her." I closed my eyes and let fresh tears roll down my cheeks, as I nodded in agreement.

"I worried about her mood swings and outbursts. Thought it might upset you kids, but it never did. The mother you knew was still in there. The disease was the disease, it wasn't her. You probably understood and had more patience for her illness than she did. Your mother had a brilliant mind. She was educated and cultured. She played the piano and spoke 3 languages when I first met her. She learned two more after we were married just because she had such a pure love of learning. I count my blessings daily that, even with all that refinement, she was a country girl at heart. To be forgetting all the time; to have less recognition of basic things, made her simply beside herself.

"There was a moment, about two years after her official Huntington's diagnosis that woke me up to the reality of what was happening." I gave him a quizzical look trying to recall if we had ever spoken of this before. He shook his head and continued, "I had come in late one evening. I had had to spend most of the day on the mountain bringing the cows down. By the time I got back, the chores around the farm had all been done and I could smell dinner cooking. I walked into the main house and saw you helping Gracie with her homework. Within seconds of that peaceful scene there was a commotion going on in the kitchen. Molly had come in and was trying to help with dinner. She couldn't recognize what certain appliances in the kitchen were for, and by the time you got to her she was pulling shelves out of the refrigerator, food crashing to the floor. It took you and Chris both to restrain her she was so upset. Gracie was frightened but was asking you over and over what she could do. I remember just being frozen, my body unable to react and my mind reeling at what was taking place. It was just like coming home after that first semester away. The blinders were momentarily peeled away and I was able to see the whole story. Molly was getting worse, and it was only the beginning. Day in and day out from that moment on, I started to see things in the context of a larger picture. I saw so much of Kara in you. You both have these spines of steel, especially when it comes to taking care of your family. Your love is abundant and unconditional and so it never feels like a burden. It's just what you do. When you gave up going to college those first couple of years, I had tremendous guilt. Guilt not only because I knew you shouldn't be stopping your life; Molly wouldn't have wanted that. But guilt also that I had come to rely on you so desperately that I didn't make you just go." Dad shook his head in shame. I wanted to speak, to comfort him somehow, but I could sense he had more to say and so I let the silence linger. Waiting.

"I'll never forget that day Craig came and asked my permission to marry you."

"Craig?" I didn't expect him to bring that up right then and I was genuinely confused.

His somber mood lightened a bit as he recalled the memory. "As a parent, you just don't ever think anyone could possibly love your child as much as you do." He smiled one of his big goofy smiles, and I couldn't help but return it.
"We talked for a long time the night he came to me, asking my permission. I kept questioning, and drilling and threatening him--"
"Threatening?" I interjected, somewhat shocked.
"Every man who claims he won't hurt a father's daughter ought to know that there is always a standing threat on their life if they should fall short on their promises." Dad said, and just shrugged as if he'd answered that satisfactorily.

"Craig finally just looked me in the eye and said, 'Sir, I will love her with everything I've got. If that ever ends up not being enough, I'd hope you would take me out.'
I knew right then and there that he was your match in every way. That you would be safe with him and loved in the way you deserved to be." He drew in a shaky breath.
"You feeling alright dad?"
"I'm okay, I'm alright." he said patting my hand, dismissing my concern.
"I could no longer hold you back from your life. I saw the bigger picture and I needed to deal in that reality. Your mom was never going to be well again, but you had your whole life ahead of you. I also knew you'd never leave on your own. That's not a bad thing Jilly, it's just who you were. Who you are. But I've walked this road baby girl. I've seen the toll it takes on those who put their own life on hold to do nothing but give and give--"Dad stopped to clear his throat and ended up in a coughing fit.
"Dad, do you want water?" I asked while already picking up the pitcher and glass on the night table. The coughing continued and he seemed in distress. "Dad, I'm going to get Sammy--" no sooner were the words out of my mouth than an alarm on one of the many machines around us started to sound. Within seconds Sammy was there. If I ever thought she was efficient before, I had never seen her in action. Dad lay on the bed, his breathing severely labored. I could see the horrible effort it was to draw breath as he took air in with ragged gasps.
"Sammy, what's happening?! Why can't he breathe? Should we call the doctor?" She continued to work calmly and quickly even with me following at her heels, asking one worried question after another.
"I've already paged the doctor, he'll be here in minutes. I'm giving him oxygen, let's just give him a minute to acclimate."
"Maybe we should just call an ambulance. He'd have a straight shot to the hospital--oh! he's not breathing any better. Where's my phone, where's my ph--"
"Jillian, please, stop! You have to calm down. There's no ambulance, there's no hospital--"
"What?!" I yelled at her, giving her my most incredulous look. "Of course there's a hospital! It's about twenty minutes, but it's there. I'll drive him myself, I just need you to help---"
"Jillian." Sammy grabbed me by both elbows and made me look her in the face.
"Jillian. If a hospital could help him, then that's where he'd be right now. Your dad came here so he could die at home."
We stood there, arms locked. I felt torn between understanding the words she was speaking, and seeing my father, lying there, struggling for every breath. Before I could figure out if I was going to accept what Sammy was saying, or toss her small frame aside and carry dad over my shoulder to the car if I had to, a knock at the door broke the deadlock. The doctor. I left Sammy, tore down the stairs and opened the front door in what felt like one huge movement. I knew then what I must look like by his startled expression. "Upstairs. Please." my voice came out in a low whisper.
I stood in the entry way, unsure of what to do. Before I really was aware of where I was, or what I was doing, I found myself outside. I was pacing the front lawn and digging in my pocket for my phone. The next thing I knew I was hitting speed dial one. Craig picked up on the second ring.
"I was just thinking about you. Everything okay?" The sound of his voice did me in and the grip on my emotions suddenly dislodged.
"No! No, it's not--"I could barley speak between each sob.
"It's--Dad--he's--in trouble, I can't, I don't know if, the doctor's here--but--he can't breathe all the sudden, and they-won't-take him, Oh! I can't--"
"Jill, honey. Breathe. Take deep breaths sweetheart." He reminded me of how I sounded when one of the kids would come bawling their eyes out, unable to get a full coherent sentence out. I took his advice and tried to breathe in from the bottom of my lungs. There seemed to be a heavy brick where my sternum should be and it took a few tries to get a full deep one. I swallowed hard over the lump that was trying to form again and tried to speak. Calmer.
"It's Dad, Craig." I hiccuped, but I could feel my breathing slow. "He's not doing well. I don't know what's going to happen and it's just-it can't--there's still things I want to say and now it could just be too late." There was silence as Craig absorbed the information.
"What do you need?" he asked, when he was sure I had gotten it all out.
"You. I need you. Can you please come?"
"Yes." he answered, without a moments hesitation.
"Call Jamie. Give her the kids. Tell her I'm just playing the best friend card with this one and I'll make it up to her."
"It's done. We'll get it worked out. I'll be on the next flight out. I love you."
"Thank you." I sank down to the ground and rested my weight on the oak tree beside me. I didn't have any more tears and I started to feel numb as I looked off, letting my gaze drift. The cool afternoon breeze started to pick up and I lifted my hot cheeks into it. Closing my eyes I again started to see that scene with Dad here on the lawn. Hearts were broken that day. Yours and mine. She heard his voice in her head. She looked down and opened her phone again. This time to make two phone calls that were long overdue.