A Love That Never Dies

"I'll get right to what you want to know. The pathology report says you have infiltrating lobular carcinoma. Sometimes, it's called 'invasive lobular carcinoma.' It's a slow growing type of breast cancer and how well it responds to treatment depends on how far it's spread. We'll need to do some more testing to determine how far it's progressed and we can't really come up with a treatment plan until we know the answer to that question. If it's early and still confined to a small area, surgery and radiation treatment may be the best option. If it's spread beyond the breast, chemotherapy may be the best choice. The prognosis depends on how far it's spread. We've come a long way with survival rates for breast cancer in general but of course you're much more likely to survive if we've caught it early."

"How soon do we do the testing to determine how far it's spread?" I asked.

"There probably aren't any openings tomorrow, so I'll try to get a PET scan scheduled for early next week. . . . Y'all seem like mighty nice folks and I'm sorry to be the one to give you such awful news. I wish I could tell you something more optimistic, but . . . we just won't know until we get the results from the scan. Once you have the scan, I'll see you back here the following day and we'll see where we go from there."

Dr. Williams patiently answered all of our questions and he told us that his mother had died from invasive lobular carcinoma; that is what motivated him to become an oncologist. I was glad that we had found a compassionate and respectful doctor to treat Connie, but the news was awful. Sometimes, life just sucks.

* * *

After we got home that afternoon, we got a phone call informing us that the PET scan had been scheduled for Monday. After that call, Connie and I had a discussion that I wished had never become necessary.

"Tom, let's talk," Connie began.

"Sure, if that's what you want," I replied.

"Actually, I'd like to wake up and discover that all of this was just a dream, but that's not going to happen. We can avoid talking about the elephant in the room but I think it's better for us to talk openly about what's happening."

"Absolutely," I agreed.

"First, it may be too early to know but I have a pretty strong feeling that the news on Monday won't be good. Breast cancer got my grandma and it got my aunt and I have a feeling that it's going to get me . . . not what I want, believe me. I've been looking forward to spending many years with you, maybe having another baby, watching Sally grow up, go to college, get a job, get married, have kids, all those normal things that most folks get to do."

"If we find out that it's in the early stages and we can beat it, then we'll do whatever it takes . . . including a mastectomy, if that's what it takes. I just hope that you can get used to me not having any boobs."

"Connie," I interrupted, "I like your boobs but I love you. Of course we'll do whatever it takes . . . and I'll keep on loving you."

"The first day I met you, I knew you were the right one, Tom Darnell. Now . . . if it's advanced, we won't really know how long I have to spend with you and how much of that time will be healthy, quality time, so . . . I want to go on trying to live a normal life as long as possible. I don't want you treating me like I'm some fragile china doll. I'll keep cooking meals, doing laundry, going places. I'll still keep you warm in bed at night. The only difference is that Sally will be here this summer."

"Of course," I assured her, "whatever you want."

"No, Tom, it can't be just what I want. You're in this with me and this affects both of us, so it's what you want, too. If I'm leaving you . . . then you're going to be alone, I hope you'll finish raising Sally, and, if it's ever a question . . . I don't want you grieving for me the rest of your life. You need a good woman in your life and I'm not the only woman who can give you what you need, so . . . wait a respectful time and then start looking again. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said in as respectful a voice as I could muster through the emotions I was feeling.

"But, until we get to that point, you're mine. All mine! And I've got something which needs some attention from you, so I need to see you up in the bedroom right now," she announced as if it was an order which could not be disregarded, then she turned and went upstairs. No, there wasn't much chance that I would ignore the opportunity to be intimate with the love of my life, the goddess of my universe, the queen of my kingdom.

When I got up the bedroom, Connie had already gone into the bathroom. She walked back into the bedroom a few moments later and she was totally nude. She placed a hand under each of her breasts and said, "There's cancer in these, and it may take me out, but these are still a part of me and I hope that isn't too strange for you," she said.

"I'm not sure I know what you're trying to say," I explained.

Connie approached me and then wrapped her arms around me. "I still want you to suck and lick on my little boobs, Tom. They're little but it feels damn good when you latch onto them like a hungry baby."

Connie and I made love. I licked on her boobs and I played with her clit. I licked on her clit until she came and then I licked on her clit again. I got on top of her and I entered her in the missionary position. She was staring into my eyes and no words were necessary. She wanted me to know how much she loved me.

"I love you, too, Miss Connie. You are my universe," I replied.

I felt myself getting close and I could tell that she was close, too.

"I'm close, sweetie. I'm going to cum in you," I warned her with a sense of urgency.

"Yes, cum in me . . . love me, fill me up . . . I want you so bad!" she moaned.

We came together. At the time, of course, I did not know it, but that was to be the last time that we ever made love. Fortunately, on Thursday, May 12, 2011, I had no way to knowing that. Instead of crying and sobbing, I told Connie how wonderful she made me feel and how much I needed her in my life.

Then, undoubtedly from the stress and exhaustion caused by our recent turmoil, we both fell asleep.

I slept soundly for a while and then I started dreaming. I dreamt that I was in a canoe which was drifting down a stream and I wanted to go back to the river bank where I had launched but the current was too strong. I realized that Connie was standing on the bank, begging me to come back to her, and her image grew smaller as I drifted down stream, then I went around a bend in the stream and she was gone.

* * *

Friday and the rest of the weekend were spent with Connie in bed, primarily, as she complained of feeling tired. No doubt the stress of this news was draining all of her energy. Sally knew, and John knew, but Connie had not yet told her parents. She wanted to wait until we had some definitive answers about the extent of the cancer and the treatment options.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

We had another appointment with Dr. Williams. The PET scan had been done on Monday and we were meeting with Dr. Williams to get the results and to discuss treatment options.

We were ushered into Dr. Williams' office and sat there only a few moments waiting for him.

After the initial formalities were exchanged, Dr. Williams launched into the news.

"The PET scan shows that the cancer has spread to other organs above and below your diaphragm, and it's much more advanced than I would have guessed based on your lab results and your symptoms. Surgery is not an option. It's too widespread to try radiation treatment. At this point, the only thing we can do is give you some chemotherapy and pray for a good response, but . . . Connie, I don't think you have much chance to beat this thing. My guess is that it's grown rapidly and it'll continue to grow. I don't know if we can slow it down at all. If not, I think it's a matter of months for you. You shouldn't try to travel anywhere, you should go ahead and resign or take a disability leave from your job, and you should visit with all of the family and friends that you want to see. I know this sounds horribly bleak and I hate being the one to tell you all of this. Its days like this when I really hate this job. I wish I had some good news for you but I don't. If you want to get a second opinion from one of those big cancer centers, I totally understand and I wouldn't be offended in the least, but . . . yesterday, I sent your results to a friend of mine who works at one of those hospitals out in Houston. I was hoping I had missed something. As proud as I am, I was hoping I was wrong, but . . . Frank looked at everything and agreed with my assessment."

I was holding back my tears until I looked at Connie. She was already crying, and then I began sobbing like a baby. We held each other and, eventually, we stopped crying. We talked with Dr. Williams about the chemotherapy and that was scheduled to start a few days later.

* * *

Dr. Williams was right. He was so damned right, I wish I could hate him, but I knew it wasn't his fault.

Connie started chemotherapy but she only had a few sessions of that. It left her so weak that Dr. Williams decided it wasn't worth the marginal benefit which it might provide.

Connie's parents came to Gainesville and stayed with us for the summer. Sally never went to Birmingham. I hired another attorney to take over my cases so that I could stay at home with Connie.

We had a few moments when we found something to laugh about but there many were more times when we could not avoid the ugly truth of our situation.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Connie became weaker and breathing became more difficult for her so she was placed on oxygen. She contracted pneumonia and was hospitalized for treatment.

We knew the time was close. Sally, Connie's parents, and I were all in Connie's hospital room. The weather outside was clear and warm and it would have been a good day to be outside, playing in the sand, or even just shoveling manure, anything other than standing around the hospital bed of my dying wife.

"I don't think I've got much longer," Connie whispered. She motioned for her father and mother to come closer and they each bent over and kissed her. "You've been the best parents in the world, and wherever I'm going, I'll always love you."

Next, she summoned Sally for a hug. I was standing there and I heard what she whispered in Sally's ear.

"Always be proud of who you are and what you do. If you can't be proud of something, don't do it. You are the best daughter that a mother could ever hope for and I'll always love you. Please look out for Tom when I'm gone. Eventually, he'll need someone else in his life and I hope that you'll understand and help him with his struggles. Don't forget all those things we talked about."

Finally, it was my turn. "You made my life complete, Tom. You've been the reward I always hoped for and everything I ever needed. Take care of Sally and promise me that you'll go on with your life."

"I love you, Connie. You are everything to me," I managed to say between my sobs.

She closed her eyes and went to sleep. A few minutes later, she stopped breathing. Never again would she open her eyes and smile. Never again would I hear her sweet voice. Never again would I go to sleep with my arms around the love of my life. She was gone - gone forever - and my life came to an end.

* * *

Connie's parents, Sally, and I all made the funeral arrangements together. People always tell you that the events after their spouse's death were a blur. It's not an exaggeration. I felt like I wasn't really present, that things weren't quite real, and I understood what was happening around me but I didn't truly understand anything.

John came in from Birmingham and he tried to console Sally, but their relationship was too strained for him to offer her much support. That was very unfortunate, because Sally was as devastated as I was. She was a senior in high school and she would be having her 18th birthday in November. This should have been the happiest time of her life. Instead, we were burying her mother and she felt no connection with her remaining parent.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The funeral home made reasonable efforts to restore Connie's final appearance but her illness had changed her too much. In death, she looked very little like she had looked in life. I know that Connie was already gone but I cried once again when the casket lid was closed the final time.

There must have been a thousand people at the funeral. Most of the legal community attended. There were at least a hundred people from county government office. Sally's friends and their families were there. Connie's family and my family turned out in droves. It was a testament to Connie that so many people were there to pay their respects, but it made the funeral last an agonizingly long time. The reception afterwards was equally painful.

Once we got home, I went to our bedroom - now "my" bedroom - to change while Sally went to her bedroom. Once I was dressed more casually, I went to Sally's room to check on her. The door was closed, so I knocked.

"Come in," Sally invited me.

As I opened the door, Sally was buttoning the final button on her shirt. She walked over to me and gave me a hug.

"I know that, every now and then, I've called you 'Daddy.' I hope you don't mind. I know you're not my biological father but you're my Daddy." Sally sighed, then continued, "It might sound weird, but . . . before the funeral, I kept thinking she was going to come back, you know, somehow, like magic, but . . . she's gone. I'll never see her again."

"Honey," I responded, "I'm very happy to have you call me 'Daddy' because that's how I feel. You don't need to decide anything right away, but I want to let you know that I talked to your father and I asked him to allow you to stay with me so you could finish your senior year down here and not have your life disrupted even more. Of course, if you want to go live with him . . .."

"No!" Sally quickly interjected. "I want to stay here."

"Okay. That's what I was hoping. Anyway, at first your dad said he'd think about it and then I said something to him to convince him and he finally agreed."

"What'd you say?" Sally asked.

"Actually, it's protected by the attorney-client privilege and I can't reveal it, but I can tell you that it was about something your dad did that wasn't illegal but would probably be embarrassing to him if his parents learned about it. I don't threaten other folks like that very often, but this was an exceptional case."

"Thank you, Daddy!"

"Now, that's what I did for you. Here's what you can do for me. Tomorrow or the next day, your grandparents will carefully bring up the subject of you coming to live with them. I know that they mean well but I'm pretty sure that you don't want to live with them, but if I'm the one who shoots down the idea, they might get mad at me, so you need to speak up and tell them that you want to stay here, okay?"

"Sure, Daddy. You're the best."

That night, around 11:30, Sally came into my bedroom without knocking. "I can't sleep, Daddy. Can I sleep in here with you?"

"No, honey. I know you don't mean anything by wanting to sleep in here but other folks, maybe Grandma or Grandpa, might think we were doing something we're not supposed to do, you know, they might jump to the wrong conclusions and try to interfere. You know, I don't have any right to legal custody of you and it's entirely up to your father, until you turn 18, so we need to try to keep everybody happy. I'm sorry, but you understand, right?"

"Okay," she answered.

"How about if I take you back to your bedroom and tuck you in and stay with you a few minutes?

Sally normally slept in just a t-shirt and her panties but she was using pajamas while we had other folks in the house. Hopefully, if Grandma or Grandpa saw us, they wouldn't think it meant anything funny . . . and it really didn't. I was a father comforting his daughter.

We returned to her bedroom and Sally climbed into bed. She turned over on her side, facing away from me. I lay down on top of the covers and she reached back, grabbed my hand, and pulled my arm over her so that I could hold her close to me.

"Good night, Daddy," she said. Fatigue was obvious in her voice and I thought she would be asleep soon. She was, and I returned to my bed.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

When I awoke, I got up, got dressed, and went downstairs to make breakfast for Sally, her grandparents, and me.

As I had predicted, at the end of our breakfast, Grandma started talking about Sally coming to live with her and Grandpa. Sally quickly put an end to that idea, telling Grandma that she wanted to finish school with all of her friends here and then she added, possibly fabricated, a comment that Connie had promised her she could stay in Gainesville to finish her school. Sally also reminded Grandma that she had promised Connie that she would take care of me. Grandma asked why Sally wasn't going to live with John and Sally quickly answered, 'because he doesn't want me.' Grandma didn't put up much of a fight and Sally staying with me was quickly accepted as a done deal.

With that detail resolved, Grandma decided that she and Grandpa would pack up and drive home. A few hours later, we were waving goodbye. A few months earlier, I had been glad to see them come but I was even happier to see them go.

John came by to see Sally and their meeting was brief. Sally didn't tell me any of the details and I never asked.

I told Sally that she and I could rent a motel room on the beach for the week but, after that, she would need to return to school. She agreed to that proposal.

* * *

A week on the beach was just what we needed. It was still warm enough to enjoy the sun during the day and Sally worked on her tan while I admired how she was becoming a woman. Every day, we talked about Connie . . . and we cried, but . . . every day, we cried a little less.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Sally returned to school and I returned to work. I now had two associates working for me and they carried most of the work load, while my role shifted to performing more of the executive functions, such as deciding which cases to accept, determining litigation strategies, and handling settlement negotiations.

I tried to balance my time between devotion to work and devotion to Sally. She was an excellent student and she quickly made up for the time she had missed in school. Before her mom's illness, Sally had not dated in a few months. After Connie died, Sally showed no interest in relationships with boys and I didn't push the issue with her. I trusted her to know when she was ready.

I fell into a routine of going to work, coming home ahead of the evening rush hour traffic, preparing a meal for Sally, cleaning the kitchen, and then having a couple of rum and cokes. I thought about Connie every day and I missed so many things that she had done. With everything that I did around the house - especially with the simple things, like putting towels in the laundry and setting out clean towels - I thought that this was one more thing that Connie had done routinely, without fail, without complaint, and even without comment. It was just something that she did that made my life easier.

I wondered about how long I would obsess over her death and I wondered if Sally was having a similar reaction. I talked to Sally a few times but I had the impression that she didn't want to talk and I simply let her know that I was available whenever she did want to have some conversation about her mother.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Today was Sally's 18th birthday. We had discussed her birthday and she was not very interested in having a party or celebrating other than having dinner with me. I took her to the club and surprised her with a few of her female friends waiting for her. We had a wonderful dinner and a birthday cake and, apparently, it was exactly what she had really wanted, even though she hadn't been able to tell me.