Though
the recent news of my immanent death was weighing heavily on my mind, I went
about my day as normally as I could despite being confined to my hospital bed
with IVs dripping some medicated fluid into my arms. My wife looked at me with
her sad and distressed eyes; I felt so bad, like somehow this was all my fault.
I suppose it was… For years there were countless fights between us regarding my
awful addiction to smoking and drinking.
We’d spend hours after the kids had gone to bed hissing at each other in
harsh tones, calling each other things we probably should have apologized for
the next day. Looking at her now, her face was forever marked with wrinkles
from stress, age, and me. Her eyes were tired, and her mouth struggled to
smile. Every beat my heart struggled to make was tinged with guilt. If I had
made better choices, perhaps I would be outside of this medicated
hellhole.
I
glanced out of the window I had in my hospital room that looked out over the
entrance; I could see my youngest son pacing back and forth outside of the
doors, waiting for his four year old daughter to finish picking flowers out
of the hospital’s flower beds. I smiled to myself. She was the sweetest little
angel that ever was.
“What
are you smiling at? Are they here?” My wife softly sang from across the small
room.
“Yes,
and it looks like Grace has found me some flowers.”
“Picking
flowers again, is she?” My wife laughed as she stood up from her chair and came
over to stand by me. Her eyes lit up when she saw that the smile was still on
my face, and she gently stroked my cheek.
“It’s
so wonderful to see you smiling.” She whispered in my ear.
The
moments like these are the ones when I realize my wife has truly forgiven me
for the awful husband and father I was many years ago. And maybe the fact that
my son was on his way to my hospital room all the way from Oregon, holding the
small hand of my sweet little granddaughter was a sign that he had forgiven me
as well. It was not until now that I
could feel my time running out, but I knew I’d be blessed with one more
afternoon the second Grace ran into the room, her curly brown hair was bouncing
with each step she took. Her rosy cheeks
were pulled up into a beautiful smile as she flew into my lap; wilted daisies
clasped tightly in hand.
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