The Empty Jar(71)

Adoration.

Attraction.

Love.

Even through all of this, he’s my knight in shining armor. I always knew I had a good thing in him, but I might not have known just how good.

When I once again face the mirror straight on, I give myself one more head-to-toe glance. All in all, one thing is very clear. The aesthetics confirm the mental diagnosis that pops into my head. They’re as hard to think as they are to hear.

You’re dying, Lena Grant. And now you can see it.

A soft knock at the door causes me to jump. “You okay, baby?”

Nate.

I don’t know how to answer him.

With bitterness? No, Nate, I’m not okay. I’m dying, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.

With pretense? I’m fine, babe. I’ll be out in just a minute.

Or with honesty? I’m not sure. I don’t even recognize myself anymore, and I’m afraid of what I see.

It turns out that I don’t have to answer him at all. When I don’t respond, Nate opens the door and pokes his head inside. I can tell by the look of alarm on his handsome face that he was half-expecting to find me dead on the floor.

The relief I see wash over his features tears at my heart.

“I’m okay,” I finally assure him, a wobbly smile tugging at my lips.

“What is it?” he asks, coming into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I start to cry. I can’t seem to stop the small mewling squeaks that wheeze past the tight knot in my throat. “I don’t even look like me anymore. When did this happen? How did I get here?”

“Oh, God, Lena!” he moans, dragging me against his chest to hold me close.

I know if he could, Nate would take it all away. That’s what his arms say every time they come around me. They say “I wish” and “If only” and “If there was a way.”

Only there is no way.

Not anymore.

“Where did the ‘blaze of glory’ go?” I whimper, losing the strength of will I’ve tried so hard to maintain.

Nate leans back and looks down at me with aching tenderness. “You did ‘blaze of glory’, baby. You’re still doing it.”

“N-no, I’m not. I failed.”

“You didn’t fail. You carried and delivered a baby while cancer ate away at your body. You’ve helped feed and care for her. You’ve given your husband hope every single day. You’ve laughed when you had every reason to cry, and you’ve gone out of your way to make sure the rest of us are okay when it’s you who you should be worried about. Lena, you’ve done ‘blaze of glory.’ No one could do it better.”

I’m distraught as I stare up into his eyes. “But look at me. I let it win, Nate,” I croak miserably. “I let cancer win!”

I can tell my words hit home. I can see the pain that he works so carefully to hide. Like the curved back of the Loch Ness Monster, it appears for just a few seconds before vanishing back into the murky depths from whence it came. To a place that only Nate can see.

“You did this your way. You didn’t let it win. You knew the risks, and you made the best choice for you. And you stuck with it. You did what you thought was right. I will always support you in that.”

“But I should’ve fought, Nate. For you. For us. But I didn’t. I-I was afraid. I was too afraid to fight. Even for you. And I’m so, so sorry, Nate. I’m so, so sorry.”

Devastation softens my knees.

Regret weakens my limbs.

As this last confession leaves me, so does the last of my energy. I crumple like crepe paper. Faster than my melting body, Nate catches me. He always catches me.

Always.

“It wasn’t because I didn’t love you,” I tell him brokenly, allowing him to sweep me up into his warm, comforting arms. I just don’t have the strength to stand. Or fight. Not anymore. “It’s because I was weak. And scared.”

“You’re not weak, Lena. And it’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too.”

“But you didn’t give up on me. I did. I gave up, Nate. Can you ever forgive me? Please say you can forgive me, Nate. Please!”

I turn my face into the curve of his neck. I feel the thump of his back hitting the wall behind us as he relaxes onto it, looking for some support of his own.

His voice is torment.

It is agony.

It is anguish.

“Don’t do this, Lena. Don’t torture yourself. You’re one of the strongest, bravest women I’ve ever known. You did what you thought was best.”

“I chose wrong, Nate. I chose wrong.”

His next words are quiet.

Hesitant.

True.

“I bet Grace wouldn’t say that.”

Grace.

Our daughter. A piece of each of us in the form of the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t trade her for all the years in the world. For a thousand lifetimes. For a million healthy bodies.

She’s all we ever wanted. The missing piece of our family. She will be the one who holds my Nate’s hand not only when she needs it, but when he needs it. She has brought us healing and hope when there seemed to be none.

My jar was nearly empty before her. Now it is overflowing. She filled it. She is the light that I will take with me to heaven, the light I will carry with me for all of eternity.