Time went by and Katie seemed to do better. She was able to go back to school and it looked like she might have beaten it. It finally seemed like our lives were back on track. I was a psych major at the University of Toronto starting my second year when I got the call from home. Katie had gotten worse. She was in the hospital. I rushed home to see her. Things looked bad. She was lying in the hospital bed, so pale and fragile. We stayed with her day and night for weeks. She finally started to improve enough to go home. Mom told me to go back to school. I didn’t really want to, but she insisted. She was so proud of the fact that I had made it to college, she didn’t want to see me drop out. I had missed a semester so I had some catching up to do.

With almost frantic energy, I threw myself into my schoolwork. It was my way to help keep my mind off Katie. One night, towards the end of my second year, I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know what was keeping me up, but I knew there was something wrong. It was almost three o’clock in the morning when the phone rang. I picked it up by the fourth ring, not sure if I wanted to hear what it had to say. I braced myself to hear my mother’s voice tell me that Katie had passed away. When I put the phone to my ear, I was surprised to hear a man’s voice. He was calling from the hospital, the same hospital where we had stayed with Katie all those weeks. It was Mom. They said it was a stroke. It had happened the night before but they hadn’t found her until Katie’s nurse came by in the morning. She was dead when they found her. I felt numb all over. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. I had spent so much time thinking about Katie, that I never thought anything might happen to Mom. The man told me that a nurse had been sent to stay with Katie, but the insurance wouldn’t cover full-time nursing care for too long. After I got off the phone, I packed my clothes and drove home that night.

I got home and went straight up to Katie’s room. The nurse was with her, checking her vital signs. After going over the meds and treatment schedule, I sent the nurse home. I looked down at her lying in her bed. I hadn’t thought it was possible, but she was even more pale and fragile than before. Her skin was like porcelain and her hair, the color of honey, was draped limply over the pillow. She couldn’t have been more that 75 pounds, all skin and bones. When I sat down next to her, I took her hand in mine. It was cold and bony as she tried to grip my hand. Slowly, her head began to move as she tried to look at me. Her lips made several attempts to speak. When they were finally able to open, she whispered to me.

“I know now...” I couldn’t figure out what she meant.

“You know what?” It took her some time to reply.

“Why you were crying...”

“Crying? When?” It was at this point that she told me about her memories of our father’s death. About seeing me cry and not knowing what was happening.

“I want to... cry. But I can’t... too weak”

“I want to cry too. But I haven’t been able to either.”

“Why... ”

“No time, I guess.”

“You should... cry... for both of us. She deserved it.”

“I will. Soon enough. Get some rest.” I tucked her in and left her room. As I walked down the hall to my room I began to feel it overcome me, like the tide rushing in. I never even made it to my room before it hit me. I collapsed against the wall, body racked with sobs. As I slid down the wall, I held my face in my hands, felt the tears slide down my wrists. It seemed like hours before I could get myself together enough to make it to my room. After I closed the door, I fell onto the bed and cried until I feel asleep.

When I woke up, it was the start of a new chapter in my life. The next year was about Katie. Every moment of my life was dedicated to her care and well being. In the process, I think I would have begun to lose the whole concept of myself if it wasn’t for her. Despite the illness ravaging her body, her spirit stayed strong. She always seemed more concerned about my well being than her own. Some days were better than others. When she had the strength I would take her outside into Mom’s garden. Katie made me promise to take care of the garden after Mom died. It was her favorite place to go, when she could. It was one of these days when she was sitting in one of the cabana chairs on the patio. I had set her up in a shady area because her delicate pale skin would have burned too easily. There was a slight breeze that pushed her hair around in a lazy sort of way. Looking closely, I could see a smile creep across her face as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As the sun began to go down and the air-cooled, I took her back inside. Back to the bed that had been her home for these past few years. The smile faded, but the light kept burning in her eyes as she stared out the window at the waning light of sunset.

“Can we go out to the garden tomorrow?” Her eyes never turned away from the window.

“We’ll see how you feel tomorrow. Okay?”

“... okay”

I put her to bed that night and went downstairs and dozed off in front of the TV. I was startled awake by Katie. She had gone into a coughing fit. I ran upstairs and got her some water. After a few sips of water she seemed to calm down but I could tell it had taken a lot out of her. Looking at her, she seemed weaker than ever. I started to feel my heart drop into my stomach. Was this the night? I had been through moments like this before, but this felt different.

“Are you okay, little one?” I brushed the hair out of her ace with my fingertips.

“Yeah... ” She was struggling to talk, like she couldn’t find the breath for it.

“You gave me quite a scare.”

“Sorry... throat was dry from... medicine.”

“Do you want me to stay with you for a while?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

“Just ‘til I fall asleep... ” She turned her head to look out the window again.

“Do you think we’ll be able... to go out... ” Her voice trailed off.

“... to the garden?” I finished her sentence for her.

“Yeah... ”

“Maybe. Like I said, we’ll see how you feel in the morning”

“I’m fine. I just need a little rest...s’all... ” She closed her eyes as I sat beside her and held her hand. For what seemed like ages, I sat there with her, watching her chest rise and fall under the blanket. When it stopped, I felt a strange calm came over me. I though about trying to revive her, but I knew this was for the best. I knew that she had held on as long as she did for me. She didn’t want to leave me alone. As the realization of all this sank in, I started to feel my calm slipping away. Still holding her hand in mine, I feel to my knees and laid my head on her chest. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Every single one of those tears, she deserved. She had been so strong for so long and she had earned her rest. The sun was coming up by the time I was able to pull myself together and make the necessary phone calls.

For the first time in my life, I was completely alone. For the second time in my life, I found myself making funeral arrangements for a loved one. For the third time in my life, I found myself saying goodbye. My father had purchased a mausoleum for the family so we could be together. It was a strange experience, to say the least, knowing that a place was waiting there for me one day. After the service I stayed behind. I just sat there with them. Mom, Dad, Katie. All gone. It was a strange, empty feeling that came over me. I was 22 years old and my family was gone. I needed to find some direction in life. Something to keep me going. As I left, I knew what direction to start heading.

I made arrangements to sell off the family house. There was no reason to keep it. My whole family had died there over the years. The money went to pay off the remaining medical and funeral expenses, with a little left over for me to use to relocate. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out where to go. Our family had always been small so there was really no one else out there for me to see. Wherever I went, I would be making a clean start. I had always wanted to go to New Orleans. Maybe now was the time.

Without a moments hesitation I packed up my clothes and the few remaining belongings that had some value to me, mostly pictures of my family, and loaded them into the trunk of my car. Before I could leave, I had one last stop to make. It was still dark when I left my home for the last time. The drive to the cemetery was a short one, but it felt like I was walking, not driving. Only a few days had passed since the funeral services for Katie. It still hurt inside to be there. I walked slowly to the mausoleum and knelt down in front of the door. I tried to say something, but the words kept choking in the back of my throat. Instead, I pulled a simple devotional candle out of my pocket and placed it on the stone step. I dug a book of matches out of another pocket and struck one of them to life and lit the candle. I had never been a very religious person, but it seemed appropriate to offer a little prayer to their souls. I closed my eyes and offered what prayers I could and then it was time to go. I rose to my feet slowly, like the weight of the world was on my back, and turned to walk away. After a few steps, I turned to look at the family mausoleum on last time and spoke one last word before I went away.

“Goodbye.”