I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much. There are people in our lives that no matter how much time we spend apart, you can always pick back up right where you left off. That’s the way it always is with Gwynn.
And with Linc.
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to live outside of the darkness I allowed to consume me. It feels good to step into the light. We sit on the porch for the next hour, reminiscing about our younger days.
“Dinner was delicious, Gwynn. Thank you for having us,” I tell her as we sit at the kitchen table sipping coffee. Linc and I cleaned up then he and Caroline retreated to the living room to watch America’s Got Talent, one of Caroline’s favorite shows.
“Well, Linc did most of the work.”
Every now and then, a burst of laughter trickles into the kitchen, tickling my soul.
“That’s a beautiful sound,” she murmurs over her cup before taking a tentative sip. I nod, smiling back at her. “He’s missed you both so much. The last year has been really hard on him.” Tears burn the back of my eyes and clog my throat. “I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I’m pretty sure you do a good job of that all on your own. I’m telling you because you need him. Just like he needs you. I know what you’re goin’ through, Sylvie. I may not have lost my husband the same way you did, but grief has one common denominator. It’s a heavy fuckin’ load.”
I’ve never heard her use that word before. Matter of fact, I’ve never heard Gwynn Matthews utter a curse word.
Ever.
She can clearly see the shock written on my face. “Sometimes life requires the “F” word, sweetheart.”
Laughing, the tightness eases in my chest. She appears to be reflecting on a memory before she finally begins again. “Best way for me to describe it, grief is like a suitcase. You have to get out of the bed every single day, pick it up, and take it with you wherever you go. Some days it feels like it’s filled with rocks, other days, light as a feather.” Her open hand reaches for mine. “But you don’t have to carry it alone.”
I think about her words carefully, allowing them to seep into my heart and mind. Sharing the grief I carry requires more than a little courage and whole lot of strength. Two traits I’m sorely lacking. My body sags with defeat.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, darlin’.” She continues squeezing my hand. “You always have been.”
“I’ve made so many mistakes, Gwynn. I’m not sure how to overcome them.”
She waves her hand between us. “The past is where you learn the lesson, the future is where you apply it. We all make mistakes, dear. We learn from them and move on.”
“That’s good advice, Gwynn.”
She gives me a soft smile. “I speak the truth, child.”
After filling me in on her diagnosis and treatment plan, we move onto lighter topics when she tells me about a date she had with Greg Bradley a few weeks ago. “Don’t say anything to Linc. I’m not sure how he’d feel about it, but I really like Greg. He’s funny. He makes me laugh, and you know what they say, laughter is the best medicine.”
We both laugh as Linc enters the room. “Shh!” he says as he walks toward us. “You’ll wake her up.” His hands meet my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“She fell asleep?” I ask.
Linc chuckles. “One minute she was talkin’ my ear off and the next she was out.”
“We should go,” I tell him, standing up.
“Why don’t you let her stay the night? You can come pick her up tomorrow afternoon,” Gwynn offers.
“I don’t know. We haven’t been apart since…”
Gwynn reaches for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let her stay. She’ll be fine. We have a lot of time to make up for.”
I look over at Linc who’s looking right back at me with the same purpose that beats inside of my chest.
Indeed, we do.
