Eleanor & Grey(29)

Be sad.

Happy can come later.

And you don’t have to push me away. You aren’t too much for me. I want to be there for you, and I’m not going to stop just because you tell me to. This is what being my friend means. It means me being too much sometimes, me checking in on you and wanting to know about the bad days. It means when you’re drowning, I drown, too.

It’s okay for you to lean on me, even if I’m a thousand miles away.

Also, and I cannot make this clear enough: you not wanting your mom to suffer doesn’t mean you are evil in any way, shape, or form.

If anything, it makes you a good person because you don’t want your loved one to hurt anymore.

That’s not a monster—it’s a saint.

Don’t let those thoughts eat you up at night.

You’re a good person, Eleanor Gable.

And if you ever forget, just check for my emails.

I’ll be there to remind you.



-Grey





15





Eleanor





On a quiet afternoon after I returned home from school, Mom and Dad were sitting outside near the ocean, looking out at the waves crashing against the shore.

I walked toward them and smiled. Dad looked at me, his eyes dripping with tears, and my smile quickly disappeared. “What is it?” I asked.

Dad couldn’t even speak.

He just shook his head and covered his mouth with his hand.

“Mom?” I moved over to her. She was resting her head against the back of the wheelchair, and her eyes were closed. I took her hand into mine. “Mom.”

She ever-so-lightly squeezed my hand.

“Still here, Eleanor Rose,” she said.

I exhaled in relief. “I was nervous.”

“It’s okay.” She slowly opened her eyes and raised a hand to my cheek. “Can I have a minute alone with Ellie, Kevin?”

He cleared his throat and sniffled. “Yeah, of course.”

Dad walked away, and I sat down next to Mom’s wheelchair. The light breeze brushed against our skin. She was so tiny, nothing but skin and bones. Sometimes I worried if I touched her even softly, she’d just shatter into a million pieces.

“Do you need another blanket?” I asked.

“I’m good.”

“Maybe you’re thirsty? I can get water.”

“I’m good.”

“Or maybe—”

“Ellie, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

But you’re not.

We sat there, staring out at the afternoon sky in complete silence. Hours passed, and the sun began to set. The sky was painted with vibrant colors, and it was beautiful watching how they blended into the ocean.

“Your father’s going to need you,” she said. “More than he knows, he’s going to need your light, Ellie.”

“I’ll be there for him.”

“I know you will.” She inhaled deep and exhaled slowly. “I once read a tale about dragonflies, life, and death. Can I share it with you?”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes, and I watched each breath she took. “It spoke about how the dragonfly is born a larva, but when it’s ready, it sheds its casing and becomes the beauty we see flying around us. In many stories, this is seen as the process of both life and death. The dragonfly emerging from its casing is just like when the soul leaves the body. There are two stages to the dragonfly. The first stage is when it is an insect that lives underwater. This is their life on earth. The next is when they emerge and find their flight. They become airborne and find a new freedom. That’s when their soul is freed from the restraints of their body. Isn’t that beautiful, Ellie? Isn’t that an amazing thought? That even after death our spirits live on?”

Tears were rolling down my cheeks, but I was quiet.

I couldn’t reply.

It hurt too much.

“I won’t be in pain,” she promised. “It won’t hurt anymore. I will be freer than ever before, and you know what? I will still be here. Whenever you see a dragonfly, I need you to know it’s me.”

“Mom…” I kept holding her hand, and the tears kept flowing. “It’s too soon.”

“It’s always too soon, baby, but I just want you to know…” She tilted her head in my direction and opened her eyes. “You are my heartbeats. You are my masterpiece. In a way, I feel as if I cheated death, because I get to live on within you, in your smile, in your laugh, in your heart. I’m there for it all, Eleanor. I’m eternal because of you. So please, do all the things. Take risks. Find adventures. Keep living for me and know that it has been the greatest honor being your mother. I am so lucky to have loved you.”

“I love you, Mom. More than words, I love you.”

“I love you, baby girl. Now, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you walk me to the water?” I hesitated for a minute, and looked back toward the house where Dad had headed. I was positive she wasn’t strong enough to make it to the shore on her own. She’d been so weak lately, yet she placed a hand on my forearm. “It’s okay. I know you got me.”

So, I bent down and took off her slippers and socks, and then I removed my shoes and socks, too. I took her hands in mine and, slowly but surely, walked her to the edge of the water. It was freezing that afternoon. The water was chilled beyond words, and we both squeaked as it touched our toes and rose to our ankles.