Long Way Home(73)



We went inside when the service began, sang a hymn that had been one of Mitch’s favorites. Chaplain Bill prayed. Several of the men, including Joe and Frank Cishek, gave eulogies and shared their memories of Mitch. I wished I could have watched Jimmy’s reaction, but he was sitting farther down the pew from me, and I didn’t want to lean forward to stare at him. Chaplain Bill spoke last, talking about Mitch and explaining to Mitch’s family how his Army friends had taken up a collection to fund a college scholarship in his name at his high school. I wondered if that was why Joe had been hanging around, working for Pop.

Chaplain Bill prayed again, then told us he wanted to say a few final words. “I know we’re all asking why Mitch O’Hara had to die. The simple answer—as a very wise friend of Mitch’s used to remind me—is that all of Mitch’s days were written in God’s book before one of them came to be. We can’t understand it now, but one day we’ll understand God’s reasons, and we’ll be amazed and comforted. In the meantime, I want to remind us all that death isn’t the end. This life on earth isn’t all that there is. We’ve been promised eternal life, resurrection life. We experience sorrow in parting for now, but the Bible says that one day the earth will be made new. This planet that we were created to inhabit will be a place without tears and without wars. We’ll exchange these broken bodies for brand-new ones, bodies that we’ll inhabit forever, bodies that will never grow old or die. People often ask me what I think this renewed earth will be like, and I tell them to imagine the very best moments they’ve experienced in this life, laughing with friends and loved ones like Mitch, enjoying the beauty of creation, eating the richest food. Moments like those will be ours for eternity. We’ll walk with God as Adam and Eve once did and be united with our Savior forever.” He paused to wipe his eyes, unashamed. “Until that day, yes, we mourn for Mitch. We miss him. But for now, we must go on our way, living all the days that God has numbered for us in His book. We must live in faith and hope, trusting the goodness of our heavenly Father’s plan.”

Chaplain Bill’s words stirred me. As we all made our way to the fellowship hall, where the church ladies had prepared a light meal, I wished I knew what plans God had written in His book for me.

We ate ham buns and strawberry Jell-O and homemade chocolate cake. Then it was time to head home. I wished Jimmy didn’t have to return to the hospital. Joe lingered to talk to his friends as if drawing life from them, but just as we were getting ready to leave, he pulled Mr. Barnett aside. They talked for a few minutes, and I saw them glance over at me. Or maybe they were looking at Jimmy, standing nearby with his mother, her arm linked through his. I wondered if Joe was telling him about his own experiences at the veterans’ hospital.

Mr. Barnett surprised me when he asked Jimmy to sit in the back seat with his mother on the way home and asked me to sit up front with him. The afternoon sun was behind us but it wouldn’t set until late on these long, summer days. Tomorrow was Monday. I couldn’t put off applying for the job at the pharmacy any longer. I needed to ask Mr. Barnett if I could give his name as a reference. I had to tell him that if I got the job, I could no longer work for him. I was gathering up my courage to do that when he said, “So, Peggy. Your friend Joe tells me you’re looking for a job. I was wondering if you would you like to work for me full-time.” I looked over at Mr. Barnett in surprise, my mouth hanging open. I didn’t want to burst into tears but I couldn’t help it. He chuckled in his gentle way and patted my knee. “I’ll take that as a yes. I would have asked you to work full-time for me ages ago, but I knew you also managed your father’s office and I didn’t want to steal you away from him.”

“I don’t work for Pop anymore,” I said, wiping my eyes. “His girlfriend, Donna, quit her job at the Crow Bar, and she’s doing his books now.”

“That’s what Joe said. You are more than capable of being my assistant, Peggy. You’ve done all manner of tasks for me over the years with remarkable skill. Delivering Persephone’s foal was an impressive accomplishment. I have no doubt that you could be a fine veterinarian if you decided to pursue it one day.”

I couldn’t absorb that much praise. And when Jimmy leaned forward from the back seat and said, “You’ll do a great job, Peggety,” I started bawling all over again. Mrs. Barnett reached over my seat and squeezed my shoulder.

“I would love the job!” I said, blowing my nose. “I can start tomorrow! Or right now! But are you sure you want me? You know how awkward I am around people. I have trouble talking to strangers sometimes.”

“I’ve never thought that of you, Peggy,” Mr. B. said. “You’re quiet, but I would never consider you awkward. I know you can handle this job. Especially since most of my clients already know you, and you know them and their animals. I’ve needed more help for some time, but I’ve been putting it off, hoping things would work out and that Jim . . . Well, it seems like that’s going to take a little longer now. But even when he’s ready to join me in our practice, we’ll still need a good veterinary assistant. In fact, with two working veterinarians, we’ll need you even more.”

It was an answer to all my prayers. And it was much more than a job. I now had a future doing work that I loved. If only we could take Jimmy home with us, then my life would be just about perfect. But the strain of watching him day and night so he wouldn’t try to kill himself again would be too much for his parents.

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