“What’s bothering you?”
My gaze comes back to hers, to her sharp eyes that have never missed anything before—and apparently still don’t now, even post-major stroke. “What are you talking about?” I hedge.
“Something is different. And I’m not talking about what happened with Hunter.” Farmor, though awake and fully cognizant, still looks more frail than I’ve ever seen her, sitting up in her bed, her head half shaven, her cheeks sunken from lack of real food for so long.
For a moment, I consider playing it off, pushing this conversation to another day, when she’s had time to recover longer. Telling her onlysomeof what happened with Hunter,mostly the part about me getting his sister’s heart, upset her so deeply last night I was afraidshewould need diazepam.
But then she says, “Tell me,sötnos. What is different between us?”
And it all comes spilling out. I admit that I read her journal entry and that I’ve been trying to ignore how betrayed I felt finding out the truth about her marriage. “You made me promise to keep trying to find a love like yours—but it was all a lie.” I thought that when I confronted her, I would be angry, that I might even yell. Instead, the words come out barely above a whisper.
“Oh, my sweet girl.” Farmor’s voice is shaky, her expression crestfallen when I dare to glance up. “I wish youhadkept reading. That you hadn’t carried this hurt with you all these weeks.”
“Well, I didn’t. And I don’t understand.Wasit all a lie?”
Farmor’s blue eyes are watery but piercing when she takes my hand in her good one, the left hand that she can still grip mine with. “No, it wasn’t a lie. A love that can last a lifetime is never going to be as simple ashappily ever afterwithout any bumps in the road. We went through a hard time. We were under enormous pressure in a foreign land, away from everyone and everything we knew. And for a while, we turnedagainsteach other instead oftoeach other, as we should have.”
I thread our fingers together and wait, as she slowly tells me why she stayed.
“You said something last night: How could God do this to you and Hunter? And I am here to tell you that God’s ways are not our ways. I don’t believe Hemakesbad things happen, but He doesn’t stop them from happening either. WhatHedoesdo is turn the pain in our lives into blessings ... if we let Him.”
“Now you sound like my mom.”
“Where do you think she learned such wisdom?” Farmor grins, the left side of her mouth higher than the right, a hint of her former fire shining through the weakness of her still-healing body. But then it fades into a frown. “That baby you read about, your dad’s younger brother ... Something went wrong about a month before he was supposed to come. I nearly died during the birth, and in their effort to save me, my baby boy didn’t make it.”
Her words are a knife to the gut. I grip her hand tighter, the only way I know how to convey the depth of my sorrow for her.
“It was ... grief like I’d never known.Butthat tragedy was the turning point in my marriage. We had two choices: be driven apart forever by our pain or finally choose to fully turn to each other to help us heal. It took time and a lot of work, patience, and forgiveness forbothof us. I wasn’t without blame, as much as I wanted to believe our struggles were all your grandpa’s fault.
“And I will forever be grateful that when our love reached that potential breaking point, we chose to fight for what we had. It was no longer the consuming fire of desire that had driven us to marry after only a month. What we found instead was the steady warmth of the Arizona sun, always there. Sometimes hotter, sometimes cooler butreliable. Different, yes. But I found out different could bebetter... with the right perspective. We chose each other that day and every day after, and that’s what made our lives so happy from that time on.”
Her eyes are unwavering on mine, clear and insistent.
“What you saw between us was very real, Livvy. But it was something wefoughtfor. Something refined in the fire of suffering. When I tell you not to give up on your chance for happiness and love, I’ve never meant for you to think I was talking about a fairy tale. I have always meantreallove, the kind that can be strong enough to bend but not break when the storms of life hit. The kind of love that isworthfighting for.” She reaches up with her partially paralyzed right hand to let her frozen fingers brush against my cheek. “That is the happiness I want for you. That youdeserve.”
The truth is far more overwhelming than I ever could have expected. And of course, my mind goes to Hunter. To my desperate wish that we could be together ... but knowing deep in my heart that it’s too much to ask of him. Choosing to endure pain together is one thing; asking him to endure it alone once I’m gone is another. “I’m sorry, Farmor,” I say at last. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”
“My sweet girl, that’s the point. It was one of the most painful trials of my entire life, but it also saved my marriage. I had to learn a long time ago to be grateful for the good that came from our loss. Your grandpa and I created a love and friendship so powerful nothing else ever came between us again.AndI’ve spent the rest of my life with a guardian angel watching over me and my family. You don’t need to be sorry for me.”
Before I can say anything else, a nurse comes in and announces it’s time for physical therapy, and she’s there to transport Farmor to her appointment. I have no choice but to stand and let them take her away. But before she’s wheeled out the door, Farmor twists in her wheelchair and says, “Youhave nothing to be sorry for either, Livvy. Not even being the recipient of Hunter’s sister’s life-saving donation. The pathsof our lives take us where we’re supposed to be. You’ll see it’s true ... in time.”
I’m left standing in her empty room, my arms hanging heavily at my sides, my mind a tumble of confusion, pain—
And longing.
33.
Aweek later, Talia and Lou sit on either side of me on the couch, a blanket stretched over all three of our legs, a huge bowl of crack-corn on Lou’s lap.
“You know this isn’t really part of her ‘heart healthy diet,’ right?”
“But it’s freaking delicious, so that trumps healthy.” Lou takes a huge handful.
“Yeah, until she ends up back in the hospital,” Talia says.
“Crack-corn isnotgoing to put me back in the hospital. Hand it over.” I grab my own handful from the bowl.
“Liv, you know your doctor said you have to be more careful—”
