I asked my husband's ex for pictures of their children so that I could paint a portrait for Gerry. Since their youngest had died at 17, this was going to be tough.
My husband's ex-wife Mia told me that she did not share Gerry’s faith but that she knew Marc was in Heaven and believed that with all her heart. I told her I was sure of it and we smiled at each other. She showed me a picture of his brother Pace speaking at Marc’s funeral, a photo that someone else had taken.
“The press was there,” was all she said and I assumed a press photographer had taken her grieving son’s picture. Pace was 20 at the time and was standing behind the lectern. A large photo of Marc sat on an easel next to him, a walnut casket stood solemnly in the aisle in front of the altar.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered and put my hand on top of hers. She patted my hand with her other one and looked away.
As I stood to leave, she handed me an old envelope. “Could you give this to Gerry? It’s a Father’s Day card from Pace and Marc,” she said and I took it very carefully from her.
“Thank you, Mia, I know he’ll be thrilled.” We embraced and I hugged her lightly because she seems so delicate, like a delicate, tall bird, and then I left. I didn’t open the envelope and then felt trepidation about being the one who had to give it to Gerry. Would he break down? It would have to be a hard break for Gerry to break down but this might do it. Maybe I should give it to him and leave the room.
When I pulled into our garage, Gerry was there looking under the hood of his old pickup and I got out and walked over to him. He looked at me.
“No photos?” he asked.
“All on my phone,” I said. “But she gave me something for you,” and I pulled the card out of my purse. “I’ll leave it inside since your hands are dirty.”
“What is it?” he asked, wanting to touch it but holding himself back. It had “Daddy” written in red crayon on the front and when I showed that to him, he took a step back and nodded. I kissed him lightly on the lips and went inside and Gerry followed me, stopping in the laundry room to wash his hands. I lay the envelope down on the coffee table in the den and then went to the kitchen.
Mia had given me a lot of great photos and notes and I was excited about my project. I thought about building my husband an expandable portfolio of smaller watercolors and memories that I could add to through the years and felt like I landed on a great idea.
When I walked back to the den, I stopped in the archway and saw Gerry sitting on the sofa, staring at the envelope on the table. He hadn’t picked it up and I went and sat next to him.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He shook his head and reached for the card. He turned the pale blue envelope over and someone had written the year on the back in pen. That was clearly written by an adult and the year indicated would mean that Marc would have been six and Pace would have been nine.
A small slip of paper tried to escape and fluttered out but Gerry caught it. He took the card out and it was a Father’s Day card with childish writing on the inside. I saw a note from Pace and different writing from Marc. I watched my sweet husband’s face instead of trying to read what they wrote. He was smiling slightly, reading and re-reading the card.
I leaned in and kissed his cheek and he grabbed me and held me tight. He exhaled as if he had been holding his breath and we stayed like that a long time and then he sat back and handed me the card. Written in blue pen was “Happy Fathers Day Daddy, I love you Pace. This is a ticket to go see CARS”. The slip of paper was a movie ticket that Pace had drawn for the movie he wanted his dad to take him to. He had cut the paper very carefully with scissors, staying inside the lines.
Marc had simply written “Love Marc” scrawled in red crayon along with a drawing of a bug or bird, I couldn’t tell which one. I pointed to the scrawl and looked closer.
“It’s a bird,” Gerry said. “He loved birds.” Gerry has a Viking/Celtic bird with the name “Marc” across it tattooed on his arm.
“Did y’all go see Cars?” I looked up into his beautiful face and he nodded and smiled. Gerry took the card and put the movie ticket back in the envelope and then stood and took the card and envelope over and put them on the mantle over the fireplace. The faded glitter on the face of the card sparkled in the fireplace’s overhead spotlight and I smiled at my sweet, sentimental husband and thought about his forever-broken heart over his child’s death. Marc loved birds and now he can fly, he told me once.
Oh. There’s that feeling again. That feeling where I love him even more and I wondered if my heart could contain it.
Copyright Mare Loch 2021, 2022 © Excerpt from Orange Grove: The Reformation of a Midlife Wife by Mare Loch. All rights reserved.
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