Tides of Life – Weekly series part 4 (Chapter 5.1)

Dear Readers,

Concentration is lacking and it’s been harder but I’ll still post this. However, I hope you’ll enjoy the next chapter. Because of the length, I cut it in two blog posts. So let’s get started:

November 20^th,1894

The leaves falling.  6:30 AM on a Monday morning. Something felt weird. I felt dizzy and as I stood up the room seemed shallow. Going down to the kitchen, I walked into Rachel. “Good morning, Henriette. Is everything okay? You look like you’re not doing so well.” She had noticed. “I am feeling fine, a little dizzy may-…” I didn’t get to finish the sentence. I felt my legs give up under my body weight. A loud buzzing filled my ears. My vision started to fade. Unconsciousness.

When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed. Or was it my bed? I didn’t quite know anything. “You passed out again. Do you remember anything?” Doctor Julian said kindly. “I remember feeling weird and dizzy this morning. Everything seemed far away and then walking downstairs, that’s where I’m lost.” I was wondering what was wrong. “Have you had this rash for a long time? What were the symptoms?” It felt as if this conversation had already happened three years ago. And it had, back then I had been typhoid. Now it was something else. But the symptoms were almost identical. Except that now I could move and felt a little less vulnerable, I could think straight. “I didn’t notice the rash at all. I was very concentrated on work. And I can only remember feeling weird this morning. Like something was wrong. But ignoring it obviously didn’t help”, I croaked. It turned out to be Erysipelas.
But luckily it was not fatal. I would survive. And that was clear from the beginning. Yet I still felt feverish. And the rash looked awful. Again, Rachel and David took care of me as if I was their daughter. They made sure I would get well again. Jason visited me at home, he would bring me flowers and stories from the course. He’d tell me everything about what was going on out there. Never did he mention that the way I had treated him was wrong. I didn’t realize, he was distant. Rachel and David did the best they could and a month later I was well enough to cook dinner for Hanukkah with steaks, carrots, potatoes and bread. It was a feast. My fourth Hanukkah with them. It felt like home even though it was still new to me. And it was one of the best Hanukkahs I’d had. We went to mass, they were religious people, and the choir sang traditional Jewish songs. I had never gone to mass with my family back home. They believed in God but didn’t go to church very often. But Rachel and her husband took their kids every year. It was tradition to them, to me it was something else.

For Hanukkah Amy and Nancy got presents, even though this was not traditional. One each. Amy got a little horse carved out of wood and Nancy got a book about Robinson Crusoe. It felt unreal how fast they had grown. I still remembered Amy hiding behind her fathers’ legs and Nancy telling me to better be good. Now they weren’t shy but brave and adventurous.
Another year, gone to an end. New Year’s Eve. 1895 here we come. There were fireworks, people celebrating. The day after I went on a walk with Jane and a couple of her friends. Looking at the ocean. Walking on the beach. The wind was making our hair fly. Suddenly, Jane turned around to me and said: “It’s weird how time passes us by, isn’t it? It seems to me like yesterday when you walked into the library and asked for a book about romance and adventure and I gave you Jane Eyre. And that’s how you learned my name.” She looked sad. “Yes, it is. It’s going by so fast. I don’t even remember what it was like without you. Is everything okay, you seem like something is bothering you.” I always noticed when something was wrong. “Me? I’m fine. It’s just…I have to leave. And I don’t really want to, but my mother isn’t doing so well. I have to move back to Texas and take care of her. She’s very ill. And it doesn’t seem like I’ll be coming back anytime soon. It looks like she’s dying, and I have to tend her. I’m leaving tomorrow.” That gave me a little shock. I looked at her, thinking about whether or not I should say something. “I am so sorry, I had no idea. How long has she been ill?” were the only words I could utter “I didn’t even know about it exactly till yesterday. She’s been ill for two months now, but they only found out about her condition a few days ago. I really have to leave, I’m sorry. I hope you understand.” Tears filled her eyes. “Of course, I understand! You can’t just leave her there. I am so sorry you have to go through this. I wish you the strength to support her and also support yourself. You won’t have to go through it alone. I’ll send you letters. And you can tell me how you feel all the time. I won’t let you be alone in this.” And I meant every word. “Thank you. Really. I wouldn’t be able to survive this without you. And I will send you letters and you can tell me everything too. I just want to wish you a good time with the kids and also with Jason. He seems like a really good person. Don’t let him walk away. I’m going to miss you, Henriette. Goodbye.” She smiled. A sad smile. “I promise not to let him go. And I will enjoy every minute with him and the kids. I’m going to miss you too. We’ll see each other again. Goodbye Jane.” We hugged, long and hard. Had I known then that Jane was such a good liar, and had I known that those were our last words spoken, I would’ve said so many things. But I didn’t. So, we went our ways, her knowing that we’d never see each other again and I thinking it was a goodbye as any other goodbye.

The letter came four months later, from Texas. It was her handwriting. I opened it and read the words carefully and slowly. She had written:

“Dearest Friend,

When you read this, I’ll be somewhere else. When you read this, I’ll be somewhere in heaven, or wherever the hell t is we go when we die. I’m sorry you had to find out that way, but when we said Goodbye on January 1^st, I didn’t want you to look at it as ‘The Goodbye’, I wanted you to spend a great time and be happy, live your life. I didn’t want it to be overshadowed by the fact that I was going to die very soon. I wanted you to have faith and hope. And, no. There was no way you could’ve done something. My mother was not sick, I was. Tuberculosis. The doctors told me a day before we last saw each other. And back in Texas I hoped to find remedy. But they’ve told me that there’s no way they can heal it. So I am writing this letter to explain it to you. Remember how brave Jane Eyre was when she went to live with that family? I want you to be just as brave as she was. And please don’t grieve me for too long, grieve me and remember me, but live on. You deserve to live now and not dwell on the past. My time has come, and I had a good, maybe short, but very good life. I want you to value your time, just as I did mine. Maybe I’m watching over you now, maybe I’m in a long thick sleep, I guess I’ll know when you read this. Now, please remember me but don’t let it take your life away. Maybe we’ll see each other again, one day wherever I am now. And you’ll tell me all the wonderful things that happened in your life. And we’ll laugh about the bizarre, unimportant things. Just because it’s funny. I hope you cherish your life and meet many great people, friends that will laugh and cry with you. I hope you never stop believing, never stop growing. Farewell.

With love,

Jane”

 I read it again. At first, I couldn’t believe it. How could she just leave and never return? I read it again. But that didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that she was dead. It felt so unreal. She had known. She hadn’t told me. And now she was gone. And then I could see it. Right in front of my eyes. The pain started to kick in. My legs were shaking, I had to sit down. Tears started streaming down my face. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. Rachel came inside from the garden. “What’s wrong, what happened?” I showed her the letter. She had known that Jane had been my best friend. Still was. Rachel hugged me and held me in her arms. She was like a mother. And she kept saying soothing words, like ‘it’s okay, shush’ and she just held me. And I kept crying into her clothes. The stream of tears didn’t seem to lessen.
I didn’t know how long we had spent this way. But when I got out of her hug, the tears didn’t come. They had stopped. I went to the kitchen. It was around dinner time. Doing something else would distract me from the pain. Otherwise, it would’ve been unbearable. It wasn’t bearable, it wouldn’t be for a long time. I knew that. But I still got out the frying pan and started chopping vegetables and added milk and eggs.  I made omelettes, the food that always made me feel better. Dinner that night was quiet. Amy and Nancy seemed to notice something had happened. But I tried my best to hide it from them. They shouldn’t be sad, only because I was grieving. When I got them to bed and tucked them in, I read them a bedtime story. They always loved these. And they almost always fell asleep to it. After ten minutes Amy was sleeping soundly but Nancy couldn’t seem to fall asleep.
“Can’t you sleep, Nancy?” I whispered. “I don’t know why but I’ve got the feeling that something is wrong. Has something happened?” she was extremely empathic. “It’s nothing that would have to concern you, you can go to sleep without any worries. And I will fight off the bad dreams with my bare hands.” I knew she had been having nightmares lately. He’d never really talk about them, but he’d mention a thing or two. “Thank you. And will you save me from the bad people?” he sounded very serious. “I will, my queen. I will fight them and let no harm come near you for as long as I live.” That seemed to convince her, and she yawned. A few minutes later she was asleep. I closed the door behind them and went to my room. That night I couldn’t bring myself to sleep and wished to be a kid like Nancy again. To be in a time when the biggest fears were nightmares and the deepest pain physical. Because those things could be fixed. You could heal from a scratch on your knee, you could overcome your fear easily in trusting someone else to keep you safe. Being an adult meant taking responsibility for your own actions. It meant dealing with problems and pain alone. At least that’s what I felt it to be. I felt very lonely and lost that night. Had someone told me I didn’t have to go through it alone and had someone told me that life wasn’t over when someone dear died, I would’ve had more strength to move forward than I did then. But it was a lesson I had to learn. And in an indescribable, sick way it shaped me. Made me who I am today.

So I hope you enjoyed the first part of chapter 5 and are as shocked as I was when I wrote it.

Goodnight, morning, afternoon or whatever time it is at yours right now.

Sincerely yours,

Gioia