The Counting-Downers (33 page)

“And about marriage?” She had one of the strongest marriages I’ve ever seen. It was the kind books and films and love songs are written about. My parents made the term ‘happily married’ an understatement and made a lot of divorcees jealous and bitter.

But here my mother sits, without my father. If anyone understands what I’m going through right now, it’s my mom. She married my dad knowing he didn’t have that much time left in the bigger picture of a lifetime. She had children with him, aware that he wouldn’t experience many of their milestones, or ever meet his grandchildren. She tied her life to his in every way, despite having to accept that he would one day leave her to live their shared life alone. She’s the embodiment of my greatest fear and the projection of my inevitable reality.

Her expression is thoughtful as she turns the head that is resting on her bent knees to face me. “I can’t answer that for you, sweetheart. You have to decide your own views on marriage, and whether you think it’s worth the risk of breaking something and getting your heart broken. I had no idea you felt this way about marriage, have you always been afraid of it?”

“I… no. I don’t think so. I always saw myself getting married. And it makes no sense because I’ve met the only person I would
want
to marry and now the whole idea of it petrifies me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“I just… he has twenty-four years left, Mom. How can we build a life together in that time? And it’s not just that life. Once he dies, I’ll have to build a whole new life without him. I mean, I might go before him. But even then, the fact remains that one day one of us will leave the other behind.”

“But that would be true whether you married him or not.”

“It’s funny, because I said something like that to him earlier. Except in a different context. I know what you mean, but something about marriage seems like it would just
hurt
even more to lose or leave my
husband
than it would my boyfriend. Even the idea of it hurts me.

“It’s like the more people and ties I have in my life, the more people I have to one day leave behind and bonds I have to break. What will happen in the future is becoming all I can think about when I’m around them.

“But the opposite is true for Tristan. He doesn’t see it like I do. The more people he has in his life, the more he wants to live for today and enjoy the time he has with them. He doesn’t even seem to be thinking about tomorrow, and yet I know that his point of view comes from a place of fear about a lack of time, just like mine does. We just see and handle it in different ways.”

“That makes sense.”

“It does, but it shouldn’t be that way. He called me a hypocrite and a coward today, and he was right. I’m always telling people to seize the day and go with the flow, but I’m not doing it in my own life. I used to. I don’t know what changed.”

“You do. You said it yourself. You have an increasing number of people in your life where before there was only Oscar, your grandmother, and me. Now you have close friends, and Tristan, and a whole other family that you’ve created. And when you can see how long each of those people have left to live, it’s only natural that you’ll think about losing and leaving each other.

“But you can’t let it consume you, Matilda. That’s the absolute worst thing you can do. Because fear stops us from living. It’s the biggest barrier, in fact. You’re better and stronger than the sum of your fears.

“You know your name means ‘mighty in battle.’ We chose it because we wanted you to be strong. Well, now is the time to live up to your namesake because conquering your fear of death is going to be the biggest battle of your life. But I know you can do it. I’ll help you any way I can. You don’t have to fight this battle alone, but you must
fight
. Fight through the fear so that you can enjoy the victory of being alive.”

I rush to gather and absorb as many of her powerful words as I can. The ones I collect that I don’t take in, I store away for safekeeping at the front of my mind, so I can revisit them later.

“Mom? What’s it like to marry your everything only for them to die and leave you with nothing? That’s the root of it. That’s what I’m most scared of.”

“I can’t help you with that because I wasn’t left with nothing. How could you even say that? First and best of all, I have you and your brother. I was left with the house, and life, and
family
we built together. A heart full of love and a mind full of memories. Your father left me with everything but his body, which means he didn’t leave me at all.”

“That’s the other thing, Tristan wants kids, and I’m not sure I do. I don’t know if I can have them, knowing at the very least they’ll be left without a father, and I might have to leave them too. How did you do it when you were in my position?”

“Oh, Matilda. I wish I knew earlier that you were feeling all of this. And you have to keep in mind that you’ve just survived a near death experience where you almost lost Tristan. It’s natural for you to be a bit shaken up.”

I hadn’t even thought that the accident might be a major contributor to my current emotional state but as she says it, I know it’s true. In a way, it makes me feel better.

She continues. “Look, you know as well as I do, that there’s no ‘might’ about it. You
will
have to leave them one day.
Every
parent has to leave their kids one day unless Fate is unbearably cruel and their kids have to leave them first.”

Her eyes glisten and mist at that thought as she looks away from me to clear her throat and collect herself. It takes her a few minutes, which has me confused. It’s not as if she’s thinking about losing us, my brother is going to live until his eighties, and my mom has over thirty years left herself. Maybe she’s thinking about how my dad died before my grandma. That makes sense. I squeeze her hand in support as she crushes mine in her grip.

Once her composure is regained, she goes on. “As I was saying, even if we didn’t have these cursed countdowns above our heads and didn’t know how long our partner had left, we’d all still have to make a choice to bring children into the world knowing we’ll have to abandon them against our will. That’s part of being a parent. It’s part of being human. And it’s part of being
alive
. But the reward is so much greater than the risk. I have two pieces of priceless treasure living in this house.”

She sets her mug on the side table as she shifts next to me and pulls me into her embrace. I go willingly, resting my head on her shoulder. No matter how old I am, I will always need moments like this with my mom. I will always need
her
. Full stop.

“Having you and your brother was the best thing I’ve ever, ever done. And I know your father would say the same.”

As if proving her point, a warm whisper of wind passes over us, tickling the light hairs on the back of my arms, which are exposed to the elements in my old band t-shirt. I’ve never told my mom that to me, my dad is the wind. But my mouth stretches into a small smile anyway.

“You were a decision. One we made happily and would do again. Your brother was a surprise. We hadn’t planned to have any more after you. Truth be told, I have been
exactly
in your position, knowing my husband didn’t have that long, but still wanting to start a family with him.

“We started trying for you when I was twenty-five and I had you at twenty-six. My thinking was that at least you’d be an okay age when your dad died. I didn’t know if I’d go before him. But I thought that at least you’d have him until you were eighteen, when you’d be able legally to look after yourself. It was important to me that at least one of us could be there for our child until they reached adulthood.”

“So you didn’t plan to have Oscar?”

“No, not at all.” She laughs as I smile. “But he was the happiest accident of my life. Did you never wonder why there was such a large gap in age between you two?”

“Yes, but I never questioned it. How can you call it a happy accident when dad didn’t get to be with him into adulthood?”

“He didn’t, but I hope I will. And if not, I hope you’ll be able to look after him.” I know she’s being vague on purpose so as not to give my lifespan away, just as she knows I can’t reassure her that she’ll see Oscar become an adult and maybe even a father.

“Although he won’t have that many memories of your dad and didn’t spend as much time with him, he’s still a
piece
of him. How could I ever regret that? I know it’s tempting, but you can’t go through life trying not to bond with people. That’s not living. It doesn’t matter if I have one hour, one day, one year, or one hundred years with my kids. I’d still choose to spend that time with you, rather than spend it alone.”

“I guess. I know you’re right, it just still seems like I’d be failing them before they were even born if I decided to have them.”

“Well, let me ask you this. We both know you’re a daddy’s girl and you always will be.”

I feel bad. “Mom…”

“No, no. Don’t worry about me.” She dismisses my guilt with a careless wave of her hand. “I accepted that conclusion a long time ago. What I’m trying to say is, do you think any less of your dad because he had to leave you? Are your memories tainted by a sense of betrayal?”

“I…” I know what she’s trying to say, but I don’t know if she’ll like my answer. Still, three years ago we made a vow of honesty so that’s what she’s going to get. “For a long time, the sense of betrayal was crippling. But more than that, I was
mad
at him. So mad. He made me love him, knowing he’d have to leave me.”

“He didn’t know he was going to die so soon.”

“No, but he did know he would someday.”

“Okay, I can understand that. But at any point did your anger outweigh your love and devotion?”

I ponder her words. Slim rays of light start pricking through the dark fog in my mind.

“No, never,” I whisper.

“And if you could take back the nineteen years you spent with him, would you?”

“No.” I shake my head back and forth several times at the horrifying thought.

“I could’ve chosen to have children with someone else, someone who had a lot longer left to live and could have been there for you until you and Oscar were old people. Would you have preferred I had done that instead of having you and your brother with your dad?”

“No!” I shout, outraged. She just smiles at me with that knowing expression of hers.

“Then there’s your answer.”

And she’s right.

It’s as complicated and simple as that.

My mom just sits and smiles with smug satisfaction as she watches comprehension dawn across my features. Light is no longer prickling through; it’s covering every available surface of my mind, chasing the morbid, fearful shadows away.

“There it is.”

She just nods once in confirmation, smirking at the wonder in my voice.

Still in shock, a random thought comes to me, which I voice into the safe space between us. “Do you ever think you’ll find someone else?”

“No. I found my person. He was my one and my all. I have only respect for those who try to find love again, and I know your dad wouldn’t want me to be unhappy for the rest of my life, but I would be unhappier trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. I discovered the perfect fit when I was eighteen years old. Anyone else would be a poor fit and a feeble substitute. And I would
never
want to make someone feel like second best because they would be.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve found my one and all, too.”

“I know you have. Now the question is what are you going to do about it?”

What
am
I going to do?

My mom doesn’t offer any more answers and I don’t ask any more questions. Her calm and comforting presence soothes my soul just as well as words could. Unlike the last time, no talking or laughing happens. Only silence and support.

I cuddle into the only parent I have left as I consider the possibility of one day sitting just like this with my own daughter under similar circumstances. To my surprise, warmth flows through my veins at the thought, instead of the familiar fear. I smile small as I fall asleep in my mother’s arms, closing my eyes with the first stirrings of the morning sun.