The Empty Jar(82)

That alone is worth the pain.

It also makes me anxious for the day when I’ll see her again, for real. I can almost picture her if I concentrate hard enough.

So I do.

It’s that thought, that image, the one where I can see Lena’s face reflected on the backs of my eyes, as clear as it was when she was still alive, that makes the pain go away. It’s as if God Himself is promising me that one day it won’t hurt anymore.

One day, I’ll really get to see her again.

Until then, hopefully Grace will give me a grandchild or two, but not for a while. I’m not selfish enough to pray for one right away. I want her to get settled in her life, in her marriage before she dives into adding so much more responsibility to it.

I smile as I imagine my sweet, intelligent, funny daughter bloated with pregnancy. She’ll look even more like her mother than she already does.

And that’s a lot!



When the ache subsides, I resume my task and stack the last few boxes beside the door, turning to look back at the room that Grace has occupied almost every night of her life. All except for her college years.

Those were tough as hell!

I hadn’t been away from her for more than a few hours since the day she was born. Even when she’d slept over at her friends’ houses growing up, she’d always wanted me to pick her up early. Like sunrise early. So I always did. I’d take her for breakfast, and she’d tell me all the gossip she’d learned through the course of the evening.

I’ve been fortunate in that we’ve always had such a good relationship. I can’t imagine how hard it would’ve been if we hadn’t been close. Without Lena…it would’ve been a catastrophe!

But we have been. And still are. Even after she started spreading her wings and became her own woman, we’ve remained close.

Pride bubbles up in me. I used to sit in the rocking chair in Grace’s room when she was tiny and listen to her breathe. I’d try to picture her as a teenager and as a young woman. I’d try to imagine what kind of man she’d marry, where she would want to live, what she’d choose to do with her life. I should’ve known, being her mother’s daughter, that she’d be drawn into service for others. She’s every bit as caring and nurturing as Lena, and she’s grown up hearing stories about her mother from everyone who knew her. I suppose it was a no-brainer that she’d end up being a nurse, like her mom. She even got her first job in an oncology unit and loves it.

Just like her mom.

If I remember correctly, her exact words were, “It fits me like a non-latex glove, Daddy.”

I smile.

My Grace…

My saving grace, as I call her.

And she is. Still. After all these years. I can’t fathom what my life would’ve been like after Lena without my little girl. I’m glad I didn’t have to. And I have one person to thank for that.

Lena. My beautiful, beautiful Lena.

“Daddy?”

Grace startles me from my musing.

“In here,” I call in answer.

My throat lumps up for a second. She even sounds like her mother since she’s matured.

Seconds later, Grace appears in the doorway. Her smile is wide and bright and full of sunshine. My heart swells with love and pride. “Wha’cha doing?”

“Packing up the last of your things.”

“Daddy!” she chastises good-naturedly. “I told you Robbie and I would do that tonight.”

Dusting off my throbbing hands, I shrug my stiff shoulders. “No big deal, honey. I wanted you two to be able to relax. This is your last night before all the wedding craziness starts.”

“People get married every day, Dad.”

“That’s a fact. But how many of them do it in Rome?”

“Probably a lot of Italians.”

I can’t help grinning. “Smart ass.”

She sticks out her tongue pluckily and, for about twenty seconds, I consider kidnapping her and running away, anything to keep her my little girl forever. But I know that time is past.

Gone.

Over.

I have to let her go. It’s as much a part of life as death is, and that is something I’ve become intimately familiar with.

Grace’s eyes cloud with concern. “Are you sure this won’t be…too much for you?”

“I’m positive. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the seats are surprisingly comfortable.”

“I don’t mean just the flight. I mean the whole trip. Rome… All the memories.”

I cross the room and lay my hands gently on my daughter’s shoulders. “Gracie,” I begin, using one of my pet names for her, “I couldn’t ask for more. Your mother…” The lump in my throat inflates like a hot air balloon. I have to clear it before I can continue, but even then, I can hear the emotion straining through my vocal cords. “Your mother would be thrilled. And I can’t think of any place I’d rather be than a city where I spent so many wonderful days with her. I’m looking forward to it. I promise.”

Her smile returns tentatively. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

She pops up on her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. I want to take her in my arms and hold on to her, hold on tight and never let go. But I can’t. I can’t risk her getting a glimpse of my true feelings on all of this. I don’t want her to know how hard this has been, and will be, for me. But I’ll get through it. For her. For my daughter.