him so weak. Sometimes while writing he’d had to put down the pen because he just couldn’t hold it any longer. But still it was readable. It said what he had wanted to say. It was the accomplishment of a man who was doing this as his final act in life.
Dear Lizzie,
There are things I want to say to you that I just don’t have the breath for anymore. That’s why I’ve decided to write you these letters. I want you to have them after I’m gone. They’re not meant to be sad, just my chance to talk to you one more time. When I was healthy you made me happier than any person has a right to be. When I was half a world away, I knew that I was looking at the same sky you were, thinking of the same things you were, wanting to be with you and looking forward to when I could be. You gave me three beautiful children, which is a greater gift than I deserved. I tell you this, though you already know it, because sometimes people don’t talk about these things enough. I want you to know that if I could’ve stayed with you I would have. I fought as hard as I could. I will never understand why I had to be taken from you so soon, but I have accepted it. Yet I want you to know that there is nothing more important to me than you. I loved you fromthe moment I saw you. And the happiest day of my life was when you agreed to share your life with mine. I promised that I would always be there for you. And my love for you is so strong that even though I won’t be there physically, I will be there in every other way. I will watch over you. I will be there if you need to talk. I will never stop loving you. Not even death is powerful enough to overcome my feelings for you. My love for you, Lizzie, is stronger than anything.
Love,
Jack
He put the letter back in the envelope and replaced the packet in the drawer. He slipped the photo from the pocket of his robe and looked at it. From the depths of the color print, his family smiled back at him. He thought of all the others in this place who would never leave it alive. He had been spared.
Why me?
Jack had no ready answer. But he did know one thing. He was not going to waste a second chance at living.
13
A few days later, Jack Armstrong was discharged from hospice and sent to a rehab facility. He rode over in a shuttle van. The driver was an older guy with a soft felt cap and a trim white beard. Jack was his only passenger.
As they drove along, Jack stared out in childlike wonder at things he never thought he would experience again. Seeing a bird in flight. A mailman delivering letters and packages. A kid running for the school bus. He promised himself he would never again take anything for granted.
As they pulled up in front of the rehab building, the man said, “Never brought anybody from that place to this place.”
“I guess not,” said Jack. He held his small duffel. Inside were a few clothes, a pair of tennis shoes, and the letters he’d written to Lizzie. When he got to his room, he looked around at the simple furnishings and single window that had a view of the interior outdoor courtyard, which was covered in snow. Jack sat on the bed after putting his few belongings away.
He looked up when a familiar person walked into the room.
“Sammy? What are you doing here?”
Sammy Duvall was dressed in gray sweats and had on a checkered bandanna. “Why the hell do you think I’m here? To get your sorry butt in shape. Look at you; you’ve obviously been dogging it. And they told me you were getting better. You look like crap.”
“I don’t understand. You didn’t come by the hospice. And I left you phone messages.”
The mirth left Sammy’s eyes, and he sat down next to Jack on the bed. “I let you down.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve done everything for me.”
“No, I haven’t. I told you at the cemetery that I’d always be there for you, but I wasn’t.” He paused. Jack had never seen Sammy nervous before. That emotion just never squared with a man
Dear Lizzie,
There are things I want to say to you that I just don’t have the breath for anymore. That’s why I’ve decided to write you these letters. I want you to have them after I’m gone. They’re not meant to be sad, just my chance to talk to you one more time. When I was healthy you made me happier than any person has a right to be. When I was half a world away, I knew that I was looking at the same sky you were, thinking of the same things you were, wanting to be with you and looking forward to when I could be. You gave me three beautiful children, which is a greater gift than I deserved. I tell you this, though you already know it, because sometimes people don’t talk about these things enough. I want you to know that if I could’ve stayed with you I would have. I fought as hard as I could. I will never understand why I had to be taken from you so soon, but I have accepted it. Yet I want you to know that there is nothing more important to me than you. I loved you fromthe moment I saw you. And the happiest day of my life was when you agreed to share your life with mine. I promised that I would always be there for you. And my love for you is so strong that even though I won’t be there physically, I will be there in every other way. I will watch over you. I will be there if you need to talk. I will never stop loving you. Not even death is powerful enough to overcome my feelings for you. My love for you, Lizzie, is stronger than anything.
Love,
Jack
He put the letter back in the envelope and replaced the packet in the drawer. He slipped the photo from the pocket of his robe and looked at it. From the depths of the color print, his family smiled back at him. He thought of all the others in this place who would never leave it alive. He had been spared.
Why me?
Jack had no ready answer. But he did know one thing. He was not going to waste a second chance at living.
13
A few days later, Jack Armstrong was discharged from hospice and sent to a rehab facility. He rode over in a shuttle van. The driver was an older guy with a soft felt cap and a trim white beard. Jack was his only passenger.
As they drove along, Jack stared out in childlike wonder at things he never thought he would experience again. Seeing a bird in flight. A mailman delivering letters and packages. A kid running for the school bus. He promised himself he would never again take anything for granted.
As they pulled up in front of the rehab building, the man said, “Never brought anybody from that place to this place.”
“I guess not,” said Jack. He held his small duffel. Inside were a few clothes, a pair of tennis shoes, and the letters he’d written to Lizzie. When he got to his room, he looked around at the simple furnishings and single window that had a view of the interior outdoor courtyard, which was covered in snow. Jack sat on the bed after putting his few belongings away.
He looked up when a familiar person walked into the room.
“Sammy? What are you doing here?”
Sammy Duvall was dressed in gray sweats and had on a checkered bandanna. “Why the hell do you think I’m here? To get your sorry butt in shape. Look at you; you’ve obviously been dogging it. And they told me you were getting better. You look like crap.”
“I don’t understand. You didn’t come by the hospice. And I left you phone messages.”
The mirth left Sammy’s eyes, and he sat down next to Jack on the bed. “I let you down.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve done everything for me.”
“No, I haven’t. I told you at the cemetery that I’d always be there for you, but I wasn’t.” He paused. Jack had never seen Sammy nervous before. That emotion just never squared with a man
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