I am an expository writer and a poet. Writing fiction is a stretch for me, so I joined the short-story-writing challenge for 2022. This is another division in the Deadlines for Writers group. The first prompt is "jewel" and the wordcount in 1000.  This is my submission. 2022-01

What’s Next?

 

Kady and Chad finished the last of their shared Moo Goo Gai Pan and reached for their fortune cookies.

“An old love will come back to you.” Chad laughed, “You’re going to have to step up your game, Kady. You have competition! An old love is looking for me! Read your fortune!”

“’A priceless jewel awaits.’” Kady laughed. “The priceless jewel dining with me tonight and the shiny ones on my left hand are all I need!” She reached across the table and took her husband’s hand.

Sighing contentedly, Kady slipped on her sweater and picked up her purse while Chad settled their bill.

Strolling back to their car, Kady commented, “You know I’ll give her a fight, don’t you? That old love of yours won’t stand a chance. I intend to hold on real tight!”

Squeezing her hand, Chad laughingly replied, “I’m going nowhere, Baby!  But let’s both keep our eyes peeled; we don’t want to walk right by that jewel that’s waiting for you.”

Just at that moment, Kady spotted something round on the pavement. “Hey!” she bumped his arm playfully and continued the banter, “I might have found it!”  She bent to better see the object on the ground in the parking lot - a flattened bottle cap.

The Next Morning 

After the school bus pulled away, Kady loaded the dishwasher and settled into her reading nook for a quiet time with her coffee before getting dressed to start the day. Engrossed in her novel, she was startled when the doorbell chimed.

Yikes! Go to the door in PJs or ignore the bell and hope they’d just go away?

The melodic three-note sequence sounded again.

Kady walked hesitantly to the door and peered through the peephole. Seeing who it was, she sighed, threw decorum to the wind, decided her attire was modest if not attractive, and opened the door.

“Pastor Bob!” she greeted the visitor.

Seeing his solemn and unsure expression, she gulped and continued, “Come in. Let me get you some coffee.  Is everything okay?”

“No thanks on the coffee, Kady. Let’s just sit and chat a few minutes.”

Settling on the sofa across from the pastor, Kady raised her eyes inquiringly at her visitor.

The pastor took a fortifying breath and continued, “Have the boys left for school?” Seeing her affirming nod, he continued, “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

He rushed on, “There’s no easy way to say this, but I must tell you that Chad had an accident on the way to work this morning; he was killed instantly in the collision. I am so sorry, Kady.”

As Kady slumped onto the arm of the sofa, Pastor Bob quickly moved to sit beside her and pulled her comfortingly into his side with fatherly concern.

A Year Later

Three months after life for me changed inalterably and I found myself with the job of raising my two little boys alone, I came to a crossroads. I wanted to be a woman who pursued life fearlessly. I wanted to continue to find meaning in life; but how could I have a meaningful life without the man I loved - the father of my children?

My youthful naivete had utterly betrayed me. The universe was NOT unfolding as it should.  For more than a decade, I had built my life around Chad and labored alongside him as we built our family and pursued our vocations. He was my home. My partner. My best friend, co-adventurer, and the father of my children. His brilliant, creative, and steadying presence had been a major touchstone of our family and the most consistent thing in my adult life. I didn’t know how to live without Chad.  As a human being, wired to make meaning of an unpredictable and unfair world, I could not make sense of this loss.

So, nine months ago, as I stood at the crossroads, I finally realized that the biggest hindrance to my healing was my desire to make sense of why Chad had died. The only way to heal was to accept the harsh reality that some losses cannot be explained or redeemed. This loss just had to be slogged through, summoning grit when needed and accepting grace when offered, and always believing that there can be growth for those of us who choose to love life, even when living in the shadow of death.

Two roads awaited me. Must I continue down the road of “Why do bad things happen?” Or could I turn onto the route of “What’s next?”  The reality was that Chad was gone. I was still here. My boys were still here. Life was worth living. I could no longer risk the life I still had for the life and future that I had lost.

Resolutely I chose to find a way to make the grief help us build our future. I studied post-traumatic growth and resilience. I found evidence-based practices and principles to integrate into my own healing. I discovered I could CHOOSE to have a deeper love of life by cultivating a greater compassion for others and broadening the public conversation about adversity in life and healing.

Now, one year after that traumatic day and nine months after I chose my path. I am waiting for my Wednesday night support group to arrive. Our community of kindred spirits are courageous and honest enough to admit our frailties and failing. We are still open enough to make space for the wonders and mysteries of life. We are each continuing our healing journeys, empowering each other to engage in the world wholeheartedly. We help each other have more positive emotions, find meaning and purpose, and achieve greater physical and emotional vitality. Together we find hope in looking for what can unfurl in the future.

When I left the road of “Why did this happen?” and began the long walk down the road of “What’s Next,” I found the priceless jewel of hope that was waiting for me there.