Love you, bye

“In the land of Qemet, once there was...”

“Daddy, where is the land of Qemet? Can you show me on a map?”

“Qemet is the Black country. A country named for its soil. Occupiers have since renamed it. Little Aya, you can’t interrupt your father like that. Do you want me to continue?”

Aya nodded.

“Once there was a recipe used to poison abusive husbands, which left no trace in their blood.”

“But daddy, killing husbands is wrong!” Aya interrupted again.

“Aya, you promised, and you can’t judge these women. If you interrupt again, I will not tell you the story.”

“Daddy please continue, I will not interrupt,” pleaded Aya.

“This recipe was passed down from one generation of abused women to the next. See, the culture didn’t approve of divorced women. A woman’s reputation is like a white robe of honor. Divorce left a permanent stain on this dress. The title ‘divorced’ is like a diagnosis of leprosy, and you had to live the rest of your life as an outcast.”

Aya’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Instead, the culture valued widows and gave them the highest respected status. Therefore, to become a widow was a great honor. Hannah was a young girl when she received the recipe from her great, grandmother, herself a widow. Hannah left the land of Qemet, but she never forgot her roots – and the recipe.”

“So did Hannah used the recipe?” asked Aya.

Steve chuckled at his daughter’s remark. “Hannah had an abusive first husband, but she showed amazing restraint and didn’t use the recipe. She was the first one in her family to get a divorce. Instead of poisoning him, she just cast the ‘never full’ spell on him.”

“Like, he ate a lot and never got full?” asked Aya.

Steve resigned himself to the fact that Aya would keep interrupting. “No, sweetheart, the ‘never full’ spell means you could be rich, but not happy; you could have every wish, but never be satisfied. Doesn’t that sound like a worse punishment?”

Aya nodded.

“Hannah met the love of her life and married him. They were both previously divorced and unhappy, but they found each other. He had three boys and she had two. Together they had five, and years passed in bliss.”

“Wait, daddy. Second marriage, five boys. This sounds a lot like grandma’s story. Is Hannah my grand-mother?”

“Aya, no more interruptions. As the story goes, Hannah’s husband was diagnosed with a very bad disease. Hannah became the caregiver for him. A job she did with love and perfected, but she forgot about self-care. No one understood. Hannah’s grief was cyclical. Some days, she was the bravest fighter. Other days she forgot to drink water or brush her hair. She just crawled up in bed next to her husband and cried.

“As Hannah heard from the doctor that hospice was the next step, she insisted on having the nurse come to the house. Her beloved had to die in her arms. She informed all the boys. Steve, her son was a death doula, and he went to visit them. Steve asked his mother the important questions she didn’t want to think about, like funeral expenses and estate planning. Steve understood that losing the love of her life was hard for his mother, but he didn’t understand that Hannah was losing herself.

“Ben, the oldest son, was a doctor. He asked questions. He demanded copies of tests and got second opinions. He left an angry message on her phone that he would later regret.

“Steve defended his brother. He told Hannah that Ben just didn’t realize how overwhelming all this could be for her. Hannah smiled when she looked at her son. She knew that Steve was an empath all his life. She knew he would understand when she told him it was time to use the recipe. She confessed that had seen it everywhere – on her calendar, on her TV, on a sticky note on her fridge. Steve held his mother. Hannah stopped crying and told her son that she was okay.

“Pam, the hospice nurse, entered the room. ‘He is resting,’ she said. ‘All that we can do now is make him comfortable. Do you need anything?’

“Hannah smiled at Pam and thanked her. In different circumstances these two women would have been good friends, for they both had that fiery spirit.”

“You need to rest as well; you haven’t been sleeping,” said Steve.

“Hannah gave Steve a little smile and told him that she was going to bake a chocolate cake for her husband.

“See Aya, grief forces us to make decisions that we live to regret and other decisions our loved ones live to regret. Steve let his mother bake and volunteered to make all the necessary phone calls to inform everyone in the family. He also worked on all the paperwork to help his mother.

“Hannah baked a small chocolate cake. Her husband was awake and lucid. He reminded her of all the retirement dreams they had but did not get to experience. Steve heard them laugh and talk about Arizona, Turkey, Spain, and Fiji. When Steve could not hear them any longer, he thought they probably fell asleep.

“When the new shift started, Steve opened the door for the nurse. They went inside the room and found Hannah and her husband, dead in each other’s arms. Steve saw one slice of cake left on the side table, with a note from his mother telling him that she loved him and asking him not to eat the cake.

“Steve knew they both wanted to be cremated. Hannah and the love of her life were together, as their mixed ashes were cast away in a stream. They died happily ever after. The end!”

Aya was finally asleep. Steve kissed her forehead and turned off the lights.