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Chapter Thirteen

I t was the weekend with her kids home, and Claire wanted to enjoy the time that she had left with them. Then, on Monday her grandma had an appointment with her doctor, and Josiah was gone, working on a yacht.

She missed him more than she thought. She hadn’t seen him since they’d sat on the porch and talked and she’d apologized—it hadn’t even been a week, but she found she missed his steady presence.

But she also realized that she’d been grasping at people to fill the spot where God was supposed to be.

She wanted someone she could depend on. Someone who would steadily and unfailingly help her through these hard times.

Wasn’t that the position of God Himself?

And yet, she’d wanted her grandma to do that, and then she was counting on Josiah thinking how he could do it for her and wanting to reach out to Grace so that she would have someone.

They were sitting in the waiting room waiting for the doctor to call them back when she finally realized that it was okay to depend on people.

It was okay to allow people to comfort her, to help her, to encourage her the way Josiah had.

After all, God had given her people to surround herself with, to help her.

Christians were supposed to band together and walk through this difficult life.

She just had to be careful that she wasn’t putting people in the position that God was supposed to be in—leading her and guiding her and being the one she could depend on always.

Because people were going to let her down. Either they were going to die like Grandma, cheat like her husband, or make mistakes, maybe like Grace, although those mistakes seemed like they were more hers.

They wouldn’t be perfect, like Josiah.

Although the more time she spent with him, the more she felt like maybe he had grown into someone who was…

more perfect than he used to be, anyway.

But he didn’t seem interested in her like that at all anymore.

He’d laughed about their kiss and didn’t seem the slightest bit offended when she’d said that it hadn’t been what she had hoped it would be—that she had been disappointed in it.

She probably shouldn’t have said that. She knew that male egos were fragile, and if she would have said that to her ex-husband, he would have gotten angry and attacked her back.

“Mrs. Donegan, come on back. We’ll get your weight and vitals, and then the doctor will be in to see you.”

Grandma stood, obviously in pain. It hurt Claire’s heart to see it. And she wished that there was something she could do.

She reminded herself, she was doing something.

“Claire’s coming with me,” Grandma said as she moved slowly back toward the hall where the nurse led them.

Claire hated the idea that Grandma had done this by herself lots of times before. But she had to remind herself that she’d always felt better. This was the worst that she’d felt, and Claire was grateful that the Lord had allowed her to be here.

She braced herself, because she was afraid to hear what the doctor was going to have to say. But at least the doctor was compassionate, concerned, and sympathetic.

“We can start hospice anytime. They’ll take over managing her care, regulating her meds, and keeping her comfortable—that will be their main goal.

” The doctor looked down at her iPad. “In the meantime, I can prescribe some stronger pain meds. These will take the pain away, but they’ll knock her out as well.

It’s a matter of giving up one for the other. ”

Her grandma nodded, understanding. She would be sleeping more and interacting less, but the pain would be gone.

“Is there something I could take during the day to just dull it a little?” her grandma asked.

“You can take over-the-counter pain meds, and I can give you increased dosages that would be safe for you to take.” The doctor paused.

“These would not be normal dosages that normal people could take, but since we’re looking at end-of-life care, we’re not worried about kidney function or liver enzymes—we’re just worried about comfort at this point. Do you understand?”

Grandma nodded.

Claire managed not to start crying, but she had to bite down hard on her cheeks to keep her eyes from filling with tears.

This was the beginning of the end. But it didn’t really help anything to think that way.

And she reminded herself that birth was actually the beginning of the end.

Maybe conception. Everything was decaying even as it was growing.

And there was always an end. It was always there. They were just getting closer.

“If you want to see any family, if you want to have any get-togethers, if anyone wants to talk to you for the last time, I would highly recommend you make that happen in the next few weeks.” At this point, her eyes lifted to Claire’s, who nodded.

“I don’t want to scare you, because I think we can keep the pain managed.

I don’t think there will be any fear, any pain—it’s going to be a smooth transition.

But your hours of being able to be awake and talking to people and thinking about your last will and that type of thing are going to be limited.

So you’re going to want to get those things done if you can. ”

She appreciated the doctor being straightforward with them and not trying to give them false hope. Death was not an easy thing to think about, and it was even harder to talk about, but these were the conversations that she needed to have.

“How much longer does she have?” Claire finally managed to ask, and her voice was calm and steady.

The doctor smiled sadly. “I wish I could give you an exact time. I know that’s what you want.

But all I can say is… I don’t know. Honestly.

She could pass away in her sleep tonight.

It’s unlikely,” the doctor said qu ickly, when she saw Claire’s eyes widen, “but it’s possible.

Or she could make it to Christmas. If she does, I would plan on having a really big celebration, because it will probably be her last. I would say no more than six months.

” Her voice lowered, and it was full of sympathy and sadness as she delivered the last timeframe.

Less than six months. Next spring, she would welcome the warmer air and the flowers and the roses blooming without her grandma. She’d make bread this winter without her. She’d get her children back from her husband, and it was possible Grandma wouldn’t be there.

She wanted to sob. She wanted to put her head down and cry, but she couldn’t. She had to suck up all the tears she wanted to just allow to flow and put a hand on her grandmother’s hand.

Her grandma turned her hand, and their fingers clasped together. Grandma’s hand was old, her skin soft and loose. But so familiar. So beloved.

“I’ll be seeing Jesus in less than a year. That’s the good news. Thanks for giving it to me straight,” her grandmother said to the doctor.

The doctor looked a little surprised and then shrugged a bit, as though everyone had their own way of facing it, and she wasn’t going to tell Grandma any different.

“You can call me anytime. My office will fulfill any of the prescription needs. If the pain meds run low, if you need help sleeping, just let us know. We can be very free with whatever will keep her comfortable. Also, hospice will be the same. I promise. They’re in the business of keeping people comfortable and at home while they pass from this world to the next. ”

With that, the doctor asked if they had any more questions, and then she exited the room.

Grandma had gotten dressed, but it took a little while for her to get out of the chair.

They needed to stop at the nurses’ station to pick up their scripts, and once they did that, they stepped out of the building into the beautiful, blinding sunshine.

“Such a pretty day.” Her grandma looked around. “Would it upset you if I said it’s a beautiful day to learn that you’re going to go be with Jesus? ”

“No. I don’t think so. It’s a really good way to look at it. I’m a little jealous.”

“I get to see my parents again. And see my husband. I lost a son, and he’ll be there too.

I… I’m almost happy. Except…” She turned her head and looked at Claire.

“You look sad. It breaks my heart that you’re so sad.

Be happy for me. This is a happy day.” Grandma lowered her head, trying to look into Claire’s eyes.

They had filled with tears, and to her dismay, one of them spilled over.

“I’m trying. I’m trying really hard to think of you and not me. When I think of me, all I can do—all I want to do—is cry.”

“I wanted to have the kitchen done before I left. I wanted to leave you with a house that had all the repairs done on it. I…put you in my will to get the house. Everything else has to be split up with everyone else. But the house is yours. The farm. Take good care of it.”

“I don’t want anything!” Claire cried out.

“I just want you!” She knew she was being unreasonable.

Grandma was the one who was being thoughtful and considerate, making sure that there wouldn’t be any fights after her death, making sure that Claire was taken care of, being happy for the situation that she couldn’t change, accepting it, and focusing on the good.

And all Claire could do was think about how much this was going to hurt and how much she didn’t want to lose her grandma.

But they were in a public parking lot, and she needed to pull herself together. If not for the people watching, then for Grandma. Because her grandma had just said that the one thing that was making her sad was the fact that Claire was sad.

She vowed in her heart that she would try to be happy for Grandma’s sake.

Lord, she’s going home. And that’s a good thing. Help me to focus on that.

“All right, Grandma. It’s a happy day. Look at the sunshine. See the tulips blooming. It’s a beautiful day to learn you’re going to meet Jesus.”

Her grandma smiled, nodded, and then took Claire’s arm with her free hand, using her cane with the other, as they slowly made their way to the car so they could go home and she could take a nap.