Page 45 of Daddy’s Protecting

“Then I think this is a wonderful use of our time together,” Dirk assured her.

“Turn left after this intersection. It’s a brick building with large iron gates,” Cynthia directed, sitting forward.

Within minutes, they parked and walked up the sidewalk. Cynthia buzzed the intercom at the front door and spoke when they answered. “It’s Cynthia Grant and a friend. We’re here to visit Alicia Stimmons, please.”

A buzz sounded, signaling that the door had been unlocked and they could enter. A nurse’s assistant Cynthia recognized stood in the hallway to greet them.

“Cynthia, it’s been a while,” the woman in a facility T-shirt and pants greeted them.

“Sorry, Terry. I wasn’t able to come. Does Alicia need anything?”

“No. Hospice took over her care last week. She’s in bad shape. Would you like to see her?”

“Bad shape?” Cynthia echoed.

“Come to her room,” Terry invited.

Cynthia looked up at Dirk. At his nod, she quickly said, “Thank you.”

They followed the employee down the hallway to a plain door with the number six on it. Cynthia looked around curiously as they walked, noting most doors were decorated with pictures or a festive wreath. She’d never visited her mom in her room. Alicia wouldn’t allow that.

The shades were open, filling the small bedroom with light. Cynthia noted that there were no personal items scattered around. There was the simple bed, an industrial clock on the wall, and a counter with two boxes of exam gloves in different sizes. With all that noted, Cynthia focused on the still form inthe bed. By watching closely, she could see irregular shallow breaths.

Collapsing silently into the chair by the bed as the nurse’s aide slipped away, Cynthia scanned her mother’s face. The expression on Alicia’s too-still face was striking. Remote and drawn, Alicia’s face revealed the extent of her disease and impending death. Cynthia reached out to pat her mother’s hand, lying on the industrial bedspread, but stopped inches away. Touching her mother hadn’t been allowed for a very long time. Alicia wouldn’t appreciate it now when she couldn’t protest.

Gathering her courage, Cynthia talked to her. “Hi, Mom. I’m sorry to see you’re unwell. I may not get to see you again but wanted you to know that I love you.”

There was no response—no change in her expression. Cynthia swallowed hard. She jumped slightly as Dirk’s hand curled over her shoulder in silent support. The hope that maybe someday her mother would decide to interact with her disappeared. She’d always known it wouldn’t happen. That didn’t make this any easier.

Hot tears cascaded down Cynthia’s face as she sat there looking at her mother, willing her to take a deeper breath, to move, to wake up. Slowly, she reached up to lay her hand over Dirk’s. This was another chapter in her life that was over.

Cynthia stood and rounded the chair to step into Dirk’s arms. Immediately, they wrapped around her and held her close. She turned to watch her mother, safe in the circle of Dirk’s embrace. Seconds ticked by.

Finally, she looked up at Dirk and nodded. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

“Let’s head home, sweetheart,” he encouraged her.

They were almost at the front door when Terry caught them. “Cynthia, what would you like me to do with her clothing and effects?”

Without hesitation, Cynthia answered, “Share them with anyone who needs or appreciates them. Donate or trash whatever remains.”

“Do you want me to call when she passes?” Terry asked.

Cynthia shook her head and replied, “She’s not there now. Thank you for taking care of her until the end.”

The nursing assistant nodded and turned as a resident called her name.

Dirk guided Cynthia out the front door and to his car. He remained quiet, allowing her to think during the return trip to his house. She appreciated his warm hand on her knee. It helped with the shivers running through her body. Sighing deeply as he parked in the garage, Cynthia tried to shake off the pain of her relationship with her mother.

“Let’s go make some good memories to help the old ones fade away,” Dirk suggested.

“I’d like that.”

Exiting the car, Dirk rounded the hood to open her door and help Cynthia from the vehicle. “Do you have anything else you’d like to do?” he asked.

“Make cookies,” she announced.

“Is that something we can do together?” he asked with a surprised expression.

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