Four years

My youngest daughter’s status on her Facebook is "RIP daddy". He died four years ago around one o’clock in the morning. We had been separated and then divoced for 9 years at that point, after 19 years together. His final illness and death were somewhat surreal, and I vividly remember the flash I had on December 25th or 26th, right around the time of his second liver transplant in less than a week, that he wasn’t going to make it. It was such a storybook thing; that the doctors had talked a family into unplugging their loved one and donating the liver, and the surgery happening on Christmas Day, that it almost demanded a happy ending. I remember thinking it would be a great story to write, and thinking of our granddaughter (the only grandchild at that point) and her saying that Santa had brought a liver for Grampy for Christmas, and what a great title that would be "A Liver for Grampy" and then the distinct feeling that it was a story that would never be written–not with the happy ending that anyone reading it would want it to have. 

And so the roller coaster ride continued, with weird things going on in his body–not rejection, just blockages where there shouldn’t have been any, and continued failures with every attempt to unblock and reroute. And then the final "they’ve exhausted their resources" message from his wife and the fact that it was time for that last visit. #1 Daughter went to her friend’s place and the rest of us went to my friend’s place, and basically waited for the call.

Now it’s four years later, already. There are five more grandchildren, one of whom was alive at that time but not yet part of our family, and four new babies carrying our genetic imprints and information. He would have loved the new babies and the addition. I think he would have liked Auron’s name and Reese’s red hair. I wonder what he’s moved on to, or whether he’s just chillin’ in the Place Between Worlds, waiting for loved ones to join him and set up the scenario for the next lifetime. Not unlike a short story I wrote this summer:

Planning Ahead

“I don’t know if I want to be the mother this time. I was the mother two times ago. I want to do something else this time.” Tehl looked at the pad in her lap.

“Okay, then. I haven’t been the mother in ages and ages. I think I need to be the mother and learn some new things. I still haven’t mastered patience. Being a mother is good for that, isn’t it?” Soan looked at the others, most of whom nodded. “Okay, then. Who’s going to be the father?”

“I’m already down as your brother,” Teres said. “So I get to be uncle!”

“Who do you want to be your father this time, Jethe?” asked Soan. She made notes on her pad, sketching in details of a life. “And what age difference?”

“Zeni and I need to work out some things together, so he’s going to be the father,” said Jethe. “He’s already set up who he’s going to be born to, and you and he can work out the details of your life together.”

“Zeni. Oh cool! We weren’t even in the same lifetimes last time,” said Soan. “We’ve been talking about being a couple sometime. I’m going to become incapacitated later in life so Zeni can practise nurturing.”

“I’m going to be a handful, you know that, right?” Jethe said. “You want patience, I’ll test it for you. I need to learn to be independent; I tend to rely on everyone around me.” Jethe made notes, outlining daily life, specific goals.

The friends sat on benches in warm sunlight, choosing roles and lessons. Here in the Between, it was easy to recognize their own weak spots and strengths, and to choose which weaknesses needed to be explored and how to help each other.

“How will I know you?” Zeni arrived to work on the plans.

Soan smiled. “Let’s use that ‘I KNOW you’ feeling. It’s always so cool.”

“Will we both feel it, or just one of us?” Zeni asked.

“This time, I think both of us. It’s important for Jethe that we get together and get settled early on.” They sat down and worked out the details of when and how they would meet and marry. Around them, the others planned and erased and created until they were satisfied.

“I’m off, then,” said Zeni. “I’m going to be the oldest one in this group, and my parents are waiting for me to be born. See you soon.”

“Soon for us here,” said Jethe. “But time runs differently down there, remember?”

Zeni nodded. “I know. It’ll be years yet. Have fun. Keep an eye on me, make sure I stay on my path, okay?” The others nodded and Zeni left them to be born once more on Earth, taking up yet another life.