“It’s one of those little things in life … a guilty pleasure.”
“That’s a pretty high expectation.” I took my first bite.The cream was thick on my tongue, and the chocolate was just sweet enough. “It is good ice cream, though.”
“Alex, can I ask you something?” Emma asked cautiously.
“Anything,” I easily answered.
“Will you tell me about your mom? I didn’t know you were so young when she passed away.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Harper mentioned it in passing. I don’t think she was trying to give away secrets or anything.”
Normally, I would have been angry that they’d discussed me behind my back, but I didn’t mind because these two women were part of the handful of people I knew had my back. “You guys talked about me, huh?” I leaned, intending to shoulder-bump her but staying close instead. I wanted the contact more than the tease.
She leaned into me too. “Yeah—I had to know how many broken hearts you left behind.” She traced a finger down my jaw.
“None,” I replied easily. There was no one in my past who could label me the one that got away.
“That you know of.” Emma kissed my cheek. “Anyway, she mentioned you were just a kid and, I don’t know … I wonder what that was like for you.”
That certainly wasn’t the question that I’d expected. “Are you sure you want to talk about that right now? It isn’t exactly a happy subject.”
Emma bit her lip. She looked down, then straight into my eyes and nodded her head with confidence.
“Mom’s symptoms started about two years before she passed away. At first it was headaches. She saw her family practice doctor and they prescribed the regular headache medicines, but they didn’t help. Eventually, she started falling a lot, vomiting, and was super tired. Then one night she had a seizure.”
I set my ice cream cup aside, no longer in the mood for the sweet treat. “It was just me and my mom at home; I never really knew my dad. So I was the one who called 911. EMS came and took her away. My grandma came and picked me up, and we met Mom at the ER. That is where they did the MRI and found the tumor. After that, we moved in with Grandma. It was a year of surgery, chemo, and radiation, but nothing we did made a difference. It just kept spreading, and she died.”
“I’m so sorry, Alex,” Emma replied. “I can’t even imagine losing my mom at that age. Not having a dad to fall back on must have made it even harder.”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t ideal; I’ll admit that. Grandma raised me after Mom passed, and she did her best, but I made it really hard on her. I saw her grieving for my mom, and I didn’t know how to process that, so I started putting up walls.”
She nodded. She’d seen my walls, running smack into them a couple of times.
“I took in three core beliefs at that point.” Since I’d talked to Dylan about this very subject this week, I’d done my homework for my conversation with Emma without even knowing it. “One—if you don’t let people in, then they can’t hurt you. Two—you can wish and pray all you want, but at the end of the day, there is just life and logic. You can’t fight the facts; they are what they are. And three—I hate feeling out of control. That’s one reason I became a doctor: so I had the knowledge and training to make a difference when I can.”
The more I talked, the more I felt the grief start to surface, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like feeling this way while sitting next to Emma, who was all sunshine and beauty. I needed to change the subject and bury this again.
“I guess that is what got me to where I am now, but I currently think I’m at a pretty good place … especially now that I have you in my life.”
“I consider that a miracle,” Emma whispered as she snuggled in next to me. She reached one hand up and cupped the side of my face, turning my gaze towards her, before she leaned in and gave me a soft kiss full of tender emotion. She rested her head on my shoulder and said, “I’m so sorry, Alex. Children don’t recover from things like that without help. Who do you have to help you?”
She wasn’t going to let me change the subject. But if she wanted more detail, it felt okay to give it to her. “To be honest, I have been seeing a counselor.”
“You have? I think that is great.”
“Yeah, at first it was mandatory from the hospital ethics committee. Apparently, I had had a few complaints.” I tried to joke, but it really didn’t work and just came out awkward. I took a deep sigh. “But if I have to be honest, it has been really helpful.”
“That’s really good, Alex. I am glad you are getting help to process all that. I did counseling after my divorce too, and it was really helpful.”
“I guess.” I paused again and then continued. “He suggested I try and reconnect with my mom, but I don’t really know how to do that.”
“What was she like?” Emma asked. If there was anyone I would trust with a memory of my mother, it would be her.
“She had long dark hair, green eyes like yours, and a gentle smile,” I answered, letting time carry me back. “She was very patient and gave the best hugs. She loved to paint nature scenes; birds were her favorite. The year she died, I talked to Grandma about trying to get her a pet bird for her room that year for Christmas. It was a lovebird, actually, so she could look at it and remember how much she was loved. But she died in November before I could give it to her.”
Emma set her ice cream cup down and put her arms around me. I didn’t like the sadness and grief that washed through me, but in her way, Emma helped carry it. Maybe it was because she didn’t make me feel alone or crazy for still grieving. She just let my emotions be what they were, and because of that, I didn’t feel like I had to excuse them or push them away. Strangely, being in them, feeling all the feels, had a healing effect. I’d been running from them for so long that it was habit. But what if I took them out and let myself experience each one? Perhaps they just need time to be heard, acknowledged, and verified before they were able to leave me.
