“How could you say such a thing at a time like this?” Hannah asked.
“Because just past the suffering there’s something deeper and stronger,” Julia answered.
“I’m so glad that you can still believe in such things,” Hannah said. “I’m so glad that you can still believe, even if there’s no truth in it. You do believe that there’s a God don’t you?”
“Yes, somewhere out there,” Julia answered.
“And you’ll find him in the suffering?” Peter asked.
“I believe that if there is a God that I’ll find him in suffering.
“Then go find him, and then come back for me. Not today or tomorrow, I’d reject everything now, but promise that one day you’ll remember me,” Peter said pleadingly.
“I will.” Julia took her father’s hand tenderly with her own.
Julia looked toward Hannah, but her mother didn’t return her gaze. Then she turned to Lewis, who had stood perfectly still throughout the entire exchange, almost forgotten. His eyes were wide, but she couldn’t tell what was going on behind them, except that he was taking in everything, and that maybe for the first time in his life he understood exactly what was going on around him. She wanted to scoop him up in her arms, but refrained and looked back to her father.
“I guess I should get back to the house,” she said apologetically.
Peter asked, “Couldn’t you come home for a few days?”
“I don’t know where that is,” Julia answered. “Is it your apartment, or Mom’s house, or the house that burned down?”
“Just come back for me before I forget you. I won’t want to forget you, but I will. I’m so weak. Everyone can try their hardest to remember, but we won’t be able to remember forever. I couldn’t go on if I forgot you.”
“We’re all forgotten eventually,” Julia said. She glanced back at the small chapel, but the director had already closed the doors.
“So what are you going to do?” Lewis asked.
“I don’t understand,” Julia said.
“What will you do tomorrow?” Peter asked.
“I’ll wake up in the morning. I’ll pour a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I’ll sit down to breakfast, and then I’ll shower and get dressed.
“But then what? What will you do?” Peter asked.
“I’ll go on living,” Julia answered.
“Then that’s what I’ll do too,” Peter said thoughtfully.
* * *
On the other side of the city, in a small room tucked away in Grace Assisted Living Center, Abraham Thomas Manchell inhaled deeply. He breathed in all of the air and all of the life that his lungs could hold without bursting. And, while his body busily exchanged oxygen for carbon dioxide, his mind wandered elsewhere. Nerve endings fired across synapses causing muscles to contract while neurotransmitters in the brain relayed an array of emotions and sensations. But Abraham was only aware of the air that filled his lungs, and the contented smile that he couldn’t have kept from spreading across the worn crevices of his face even if he’d tried. He held in that big gulp of life for as long as he could, and when he felt that he couldn’t hold on to it a second longer he let it all go, exhaling that full breath of air just as deeply as he’d taken it in.
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