Beth

Beth

Beth looked around at the faces of so many people she loved. Her daughters were perched beside the bed exchanging knowing glances and being as strong and opinionated as she always taught them to be. They discussed what they would fix the family for dinner. Kacie mentioned they had some chicken breasts they could throw in the oven. Whipping up some quick green beans and a simple green salad wouldn’t take too much time and would be a tasty supper for everyone, satisfying even the picky eaters of the bunch. Jan reminded her that there was leftover cornbread from the night before that they should make sure they incorporate. It was a little dry, they admitted, but as Beth always told them, perfectly good food should not be wasted. There were people going without, after all. The two begrudgingly agreed to respect mama’s frugal nature and just get it over with. They would finish off the disappointing cornbread with dinner. Beth was satisfied with their conclusion and was just happy not to be eating a bland TV tray dinner out of the freezer again, but she would never say that out loud to her girls, the ones who supplied those preserved meals for her.

Beth’s close friend Leah sat in a folding metal chair beside the meager bookshelf that housed a lifetime’s collection of Danielle Steele books. She quietly listened to the great dinner debate, her arms crossed and chin rested atop one of her hands. She glanced dutifully over at the clock. She was excellent with schedules, and she was on a strict one. 1 more hour until the next dose of medicine.

Pamela, Beth’s granddaughter, was in the corner of the room in the tired green rocking recliner that was gradually making its journey through every room in the house, moving on to the next location in the house once it had outlived its welcome or found its new purpose. Pamela’s hands were folded anxiously on her lap as she listened to her daughter Mandy lecture her about her parenting choices. Pamela kept her lips sealed and tried her best not to engage and accept the invitation to their next argument. Mandy finally stopped talking, and Pamela was almost in the clear before she thought of just one teensy weensy little remark she wanted to add in. She simply reminded Mandy that she did manage to keep her alive for quite awhile despite their differences in parenting techniques and that it was disrespectful to lecture her own mother about those sorts of things. Mandy quirked that eyebrow as she did when Pamela would strike a nerve. Beth always tried to break these things up when they started, but she decided to let it play out this time. With all the separate conversations going on in the room at the moment, there was no way she would be heard anyways. She wished that the two had a less combative relationship, but she knew that they loved each other despite the fighting.

Her granddaughter Kylie sat in silence at the foot of the bed. She had her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop, her fingers whizzing across the keyboard with a purpose, the way they always did. Beth couldn’t understand how she could focus so well with so much going on. She was quite the busy bee, stepping out to take phone calls from colleagues and furrowing her brows as she poured over emails and legal documents. Kylie wasn’t much of a talker when she didn’t have something that needed to be said, so she was just observing. Beth always appreciated that about her. She had an endearing awkward quality to her that kept her too uncomfortable to engage in the small menial exchanges that people typically shared to fill the silence. Every so often, she would glance up and look at Beth, then at Jan and Kacie, keeping tabs on the conversations and happenings around her. Beth was so proud of her.

Beth recounted the times she was the quiet one, sitting at the head of the dining table, the throne her family lovingly insisted she reign on when they gathered. She looked down the extended table, over her pearly white table cloth with the embroidered flowers, the one she worked so methodically and faithfully to keep clean and white all these years. Right now it was covered pretty china plates full of food and tall glasses filled with sodas and ice tea. The tablecloth was sprinkled with breadcrumbs from the dinner rolls and little drippings of gravy here and there. There was a palm sized brown spot where some soda was spilled by her great great granddaughter, the apple of her eye. The next day, she would carefully examine and soak the tablecloth, cautiously spot cleaning each and every little drip and drop of color to make sure that it would be nice and presentable for the next family meal. But for right then in that moment, as she looked down the length of the table at generations on generations of her children laughing and talking and spilling, the tablecloth was perfect.

Beth loved nothing more than to have her home full. Adult kids, grandkids and their kids, husbands and boyfriends and neighbors and friends from church. She welcomed them all and she treated them as best as she knew how to treat anyone. Beth always repeated one of her favorite quotes from her husband John. He always said it better, but she remembered something like..

“Anything good I can do in this world, let me do it now, because I’ll only pass through this way once.” Beth listened to him say it, as if on cue. He was such a witty and funny man. She smiled to herself, admiring how handsome he looked standing there in his doorway in his army getup, his burly brows peeking out from underneath that navy cap. “You’ve certainly done your share.” She heard him say. “You look beautiful Bethie.” He told her proudly. He always could make her blush, and this was no exception. She knew she was old and wrinkled now, but he made her feel like she was 25 again. He looked like he was young again too, like she remembered him before he got sick. “All four of you do.” Her heart was beaming, warm with love and grace. She looked around the quiet room, now empty except for her three daughters Jan, Kacie, and Tammy. She didn’t remember the others leaving. She smiled up at John, immensely proud of the strong capable women they had raised and the beautiful family they had created together. She looked over at Kacie and her smile faded.

Kacie had dark bags under eyes and her cheek glistened in the dim light of the room. She tossed a crumpled-up tissue into a trash can full of crumped up tissues and sat back, legs crossed, scrolling on her phone as if trying to pass time. Beth looked over at Jan. Jan had her eyes closed and her head leaning back against the wall, right under a family portrait. It seemed like she was trying to sleep right there in the chair. It didn’t look comfortable. Beth wished she would just go to bed.

“Well, I’m going to go to bed.” Kylie leaned her head in the doorway around John’s shoulder. “I’m exhausted. Please wake me up if there is any news.” She told them. She looked nervous as she quickly came over to Beth’s bed and kissed her on top of her head. “I love you Mema. Goodnight.” Her voice shook as she spoke. She was precious. Beth tried to say I love you too, but her mouth wouldn’t open. Kylie left the room and went into the restroom to get ready for bed.

Beth felt her breath catch in her throat. Kacie and Jan were on their feet immediately and standing over her bedside. She tried to cough the air out, but it wouldn’t budge. She struggled for air for a minute, but her lungs didn’t come to her aide. She became suddenly aware of how much they were not doing anymore. She felt her heart skip a few thumps. She felt strange and light. Kacie gripped onto her hand and squeezed while Jan caressed her temple, sweeping her hair tenderly out of the way.

“You don’t need to stay. We’re going to be okay mama. It’s okay for you to go. You’ve done your part.” John and Tammy stood at the door together, waiting. “Is your mama there? Are Papa and Tammy there, mama? I’m so excited for you to see them.” Kacie told her. Beth wanted to answer her, to tell her that Papa and Tammy were right behind them, but her mouth wouldn’t open. “We love you mama.” Suddenly Kylie was rushing back in the room, holding onto her hand, telling her she loved her. This is when Beth realized she couldn’t feel their touch anymore. The room got really bright, and feelings of euphoria filled her body. Suddenly she was standing next to her two beautiful daughters and her young granddaughter, but she didn’t hurt or struggle for air. She felt warm. She felt free.

“It’s time to go home, Bethie. Your sister can’t wait to see you.” John told her from the doorway. Beth looked back at him and Tammy, who waited patiently and lovingly for her as they had for so long. She had missed them so and couldn’t wait to catch up. She watched the three at her bedside and smiled to herself. They were holding each other, crying over her body. But they had assured her they would be okay, and she knew that they would because she had spent her lifetime teaching them how.

John held out his hand to her, and she took it faithfully, like she had so many years ago. She put her arm around her Tammy and they walked off together.

Author's Note

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