Hopeful Places

Our world was beautiful. We got married at 23. We met in college. I was studying to be a professional photographer, and she a nurse. We were so mismatched. The only thing binding us together was pure, utter love and our faith. We were going to make a difference. Sooner or later, we had children, Landon and Keira. Together we had survived the ups and downs that life had presented us with. Keira was the smartest kid in 5th grade. We had gotten Landon in preschool. I had a piece of my work in a gallery. She had gotten a new job, at a hospital that was closer to home. We went to church, every Sunday praising God and having brunch with extended family after. Our faith and marriage, stronger than ever. Everything was going our way. That was until...Martha got diagnosed with cancer. Soon our very world started to crumble.

***

Martha held my hand tightly.

“It’ll be okay,” I whispered.

It was her first day of chemo. We’ve heard about chemo. She would be weak and sickly. The next would be her hair. It was never her hair that I loved about her. I love who she is. I love her personality and her kindness. I love her love of adventure. I love how she cares for others above herself. I don’t know what I would do without her. She doesn’t deserve this.

***

The children and the rest of our extended family know now. They whisper somber prayers. I move my lips, repeating the same prayer, but it feels empty and hollow. As if I were just speaking mere words to air. There is a knot of fear in my chest, a heaviness that doesn’t go away, no matter how many times I try to ignore it. I watch as Landon snuggles up on her lap. He tells her stories to cheer her up. She laughs. I would miss her laugh. I am terrified of missing her laughter. I want her to be here with me, with us. Keira frowns at me as if she’s thinking the same thing. I don’t want our kids to worry. I want them to just be kids. To live life to the fullest, no matter what happens.

***

The chemo stopped working. With that, her hair grew back, and she gained back some of her strength, but she is on limited time. In desperation, I looked for answers. Maybe some experimental medicine. Or even some special surgery. Something, anything that could help.

***

I remember my mother told me stories of the Garden of Eden, where a tree of life stood in the middle. It was said to heal all those who ate its fruit. I spent a lot of time researching before I was able to guess where it could be. I showed my wife all my research. She simply looked up, closed her eyes, and said, “Okay.” We took some of our savings and retirement money to afford the journey.

***

Finally, after weeks of planning, our plane landed in the middle of nowhere. Martha and I held on tightly to the kids, afraid we would lose them. The world is full of dangerous things. We didn't want to bring the kids with us, Martha wanted us to leave her with her mother, but the children begged. So we agreed. We would do this together. A guide I had hired loaded us into his boat, and we were off.

***

The boat ride was terrible. There were too many bugs. Too much humidity. The kids huddled at my side, whispering complaints and clutching their damp backpacks. Martha had to retreat to the bathroom several times due to boat sickness. Keira sat beside her, moving her hair out of her face.

“Is she going to be okay?”

I kneel down to Landon and kiss his head.

“Yeah, your mom’s tough.”

***

Eventually, the boat slowed near a small village. The sun would be setting soon, and we would need coverage from the animals of the night. Our guide called out in a language I couldn't understand, and a group of villagers appeared, smiling and curious. We were ushered over, our bags carried for us by children who giggled at us. Our kids got into the mix, playing games with the other children. Soon, night fell, and everyone was dancing around a fire, smiles and all. A teen girl was braiding Keira’s hair. Landon ran around with the boys his age and younger, giggling as they passed by. I watched as Martha danced, arm in arm with a woman old enough to be her mother. She laughed and smiled. The children clapped at her dance moves. For the first time in months, I saw her as she had always been, full of life.

“George, get over here,” Martha beckoned me.

Soon, Keira and some of the others were pulling me by the arms to get up. I danced with my family and all those people. Landon and Keira danced at our feet in their own silly dances. I lifted Martha up and kissed her. Everyone cheered and awed. This is the love of my life. I can’t see a world without her.

***

By midnight, we crowded together in a hut. Martha snuggled up with Keira, and Landon traced shapes into the dirt.

“Will you be better tomorrow, Mom?” Keira asked, her voice small.

Martha managed a smile.

“Yes, sweetheart, tomorrow I’ll be all better.”

***

I woke to the sound of coughing. The same cough I’ve been hearing for months. I came over to her and stroked her head. One of the villagers doused her head in spices, and for a minute, she was fine. I picked her up and took her back to the boat. I looked back at the kids who were following behind me. Landon clung to my sleeve as I knelt to say goodbye, his eyes wide with worry. Keira tried to act brave, but I could tell she was scared, too.

“Stay here,” I told them, my voice steady for their sake. “We’ll be back soon.”

Keira nodded, holding Landon’s hand.

“Watch your brother," I told her.

“I will,” Keira nodded.

The guide translated to the women, and they quickly brought the kids back with the others.

“We love you, mommy!” They cried out, blowing kisses.

The river was quiet as we drifted away from the village, the early morning mist curling above the water. Martha lay against me, her breathing shallow but peaceful.

***

Hours slipped by. I watched Martha’s face for signs, pain, discomfort, hope, anything at all. She opened her eyes once and managed a faint smile. I squeezed her hand, nodding to our guide to press on, clinging to the memory of her laughter the night before.

“How much further?”

“Not much,” the guide told us.

She’s going to be okay. I thought back to what Martha said to Keira last night. Does she know something I don’t?

***

Our guide pointed toward a narrow, shadowy trail. My heart thudded. If the stories were true, this was the direction we needed to take.

“My friend what you seek, many men do not find.”

“Don’t leave without us.”

“I wasn't planning on it, my friend,” he nodded.

We got off the boat. With each step, Martha grew heavier in my arms. Her breath came in shallow bursts until, suddenly, her head lolled against my shoulder. I nearly stumbled beneath her weight.

“Almost there,” I said, though I wasn’t even sure.

I raced against time until I saw a tree in a clearing. Its branches were strong, and it bore fruit. I leaned Martha against the trunk as I reached for the fruit. I bent down and handed it to her.

“George...”

“Eat the fruit,” I begged.

She held my face, “It’s just a story.”

“We’re here. The tree is right here.”

“George, this is just some fruit. There’s nothing special about it," she mumbled.

“Try, please," I begged.

She coughed, then wiped her mouth, and she bit into it.

“Do you feel anything?”

“I feel the same,” she groaned.

“Try again! It has to work...it has to,” I whined, “I can’t lose you.”

This can't be happening! We're here! We're here...Why isn't it working?!

“It won’t be forever. I’ll be in heaven, and one day you’ll come too.”

No, God please, no.

I fall to my knees and look at her.

“I need you, Martha. You’re my world.”

“Take care...of Keira and Land...on," her voice trembled.

I held her hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I will, I promise.”

“Hold me, George, hold me.”

I lay next to her, her breathing subtle. I hold her, tears falling down my face. She looks up in amazement.

“Bury me by the village. It’s so beautiful. I love it there.”

I kissed her head.

“Okay,” I stroked her face, “I love you.”

“Love you...”

Her breath slowed. The sun crept down across the clearing, and I realized I was alone.

***

Both men and women sing in a language I still can’t understand. Children bow their heads. I look down into the grave. They dressed her in beautiful clothes. She would’ve liked that. Each person threw a handful of dirt into her grave. Keira and Landon cried, holding me close. I throw in the last piece of dirt and spread it evenly. When it was done, the children clung to me, and I held them close. The three of us were rooted to the spot as the villagers drifted away behind us and the world moved on.

“Daddy, is she all better now?” Landon whispered.

“Yeah, bud, she’s all better,” I cried.

“Why can’t we see her anymore?” He asked.

Keira held my hand a little tighter, waiting for a comforting answer. I squeezed her hand and picked up Landon.

“She’s in heaven. She’s okay, now.”

I looked up at the sky, tears falling down my face.

“We’ll see her again.”