Through the Lens of Sorrow

Warning: This story does contain talk of death, and briefly mentions alcohol.

For Grace, time slowed down as she waited to hear the news of her husband. Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. Her mind swirled with the endless possibilities that laid before her.. The ‘what ifs’ growing stronger with each passing moment. Grace checked the clock on the wall.

10:00 PM

The door flung open. Grace’s head shot up, sure that this one would be for her. Instead, two nurses walked by, no doubt engaged in some sort of gossip from the day. Grace looked down, defeated. How much longer could it take?

12:00 AM

More time had passed with no word of her husband’s condition. Her leg shook with fear and anticipation. The door swung open again. A woman with her young son walked through the doors. It still wasn’t for Grace. In that moment, Grace thought about what the future could look like. Her and her husband were young. Her husband had been asking Grace to start trying for a baby. Grace didn’t feel ready yet. She felt angry, and selfish for not giving him what he wanted. She was afraid that now, they may never have that.

1:30 AM

Grace scanned over the tiles on the floor, counting them with each passing second. 45, 46,47,48, wait no that’s not right. 49. No, 48. Let’s start over.. 1,2,3,4. Grace memorized every aspect of that waiting room, from the number of tiles on the floor to the small coffee spill that was now stuck on the side table to the left of her. The door flew open again. She didn’t look up, the hope of it being for her dissipating. 

3:00 AM 

“Mrs. Bernardi?” A voice sounded from in front of Grace. Grace shot up, looking for the voice who called her name. Standing in the doorway was a young female nurse, perhaps no older than 30.. not much older than her. Tears stained her cheeks, but her eyes looked kind and inviting nevertheless. Grace made her way over to the young woman, making a mental note of the name on her badge. Mia. Grace wondered why the nurse had been crying, but she brushed it off as she figured the nurse was probably just having a busy day. Or maybe another patient yelled at her. Maybe she got into it with another nurse. Whatever the case was, it wasn’t important in that moment. She was just ready to see her husband.

“Oh good! I was beginning to worry. Can I go see my husband now?” Grace asked. Surely she was allowed to see her husband. Her husband would no doubt be asking for her, ready for her to take him home. 

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I have some terrible news.. Your husband, Theo, he came in with a brain bleed and we did what we could to save him. I’m sorry to tell you this, but he’s gone.” No. There was no way he could be gone. Grace had just been with him that morning. Everything seemed normal, like any other day. There was no way that a normal day could turn bad that quickly. It just wasn’t possible.

The nurse continued to talk, but Grace drowned out the noise as her mind raced, irrationality fighting to take over. Grace could hear her heartbeat in her ears. The walls began to close in on her, her breath becoming more rapid as time passed. She looked over at the crumbs on the table beside her. Were those there before? Grace couldn’t remember those being there before. That wasn’t important. Theo was dead.  Wait, but seriously, were those there before?

—-----------

 The weeks following Theo’s funeral were the hardest for Grace. She felt numb to everything around her. Everyone talks about the first week after someone passes. People come over, even those that hadn’t been seen in years, to bring meals to the grieving family. Slowly, the world seems to move on as people begin to come less and less. But what happens when the family is left to grieve by themselves? When they’re left with nothing but their own thoughts to occupy the time? Will they rise above it and begin to move on? Or will they fall apart at the seams?

As Grace stared down the bottom of the liquor bottle, she realized which person she was in that situation. She was falling apart. She hadn’t gone to work in weeks. All she could do was lay there day after day on her worn out couch, in her tiny little apartment, praying for someone to take her pain away. Alcohol could only get her so far. 

Soon enough, Autumn turned into Winter, and Winter into Spring. The bills were no longer being paid and Grace found herself being kicked out of her apartment. She wasn’t sure of what to do or where to go so she called the only people she knew would help her in that moment. She called her parents. Her parents happily agreed to let Grace move back in with them. So then came the next task… going through Theo’s stuff.

—-----

Boxes were filled with items to take to the local thrift store. Looking around at their.. her..  almost vacant room, Grace spotted one last shoe box underneath her bed. Bending down, Grace pulled it out and opened it, ready to see what was inside. 

Inside the box laid a small camera. It wasn’t fancy in nature, but something drew her to the camera immediately. Engraved on the side were two initials. TB. Theo Bernardi. Grace turned on the camera and flipped to the gallery. The first picture left Grace frozen. It was a picture of her at the lake the previous summer, laughing with no cares in the world. Memories came rushing back..

“Smile for the picture!” Theo had said, laughing at the beautiful woman in front of him. Grace wasn’t a fan of photos, but Theo was mesmerized by her beauty. 

“Stop! No!” Grace replied, laughing as she tried to grab the camera away from him. Theo was much taller than her, so he held the camera above his head as Grace tried reaching for it, to no avail. “Don’t you dare take a picture of me Theodore Bernardi! I’ll get you back!” Grace was the only one who was allowed to use the name Theodore, and she only used it when she was messing with him. 

Click

Theo had taken a picture of Grace in that moment. Grace knew there was no use so she came up with a plan. They were standing on the dock so she slowly backed up until she fell into the water, making it look like a mistake. When Grace’s head rose above the water, Theo had stuck his hand out, ready to pull her back up. Instead, Grace grabbed his hand and pulled him in. More laughter was exchanged between the both of them.

Grace was pulled out of her thoughts and she began to cry. Not the cute kind of cry where a few tears were shed. She violently sobbed and sobbed to the point where she was gasping for air. She hit her fists on the ground, begging with God to bring her husband back. She would do anything to talk to him one last time. All of a sudden, her phone began to ring. It was her mom.

“Hey honey. I’m out front. Grab whatever you need and let’s go. The movers will be here to get everything else in an hour. Just leave the key under the mat.” Her mother said, concern and sadness etched in her voice. 

‘Okay.” was all Grace could muster. She hung up the phone and stood up, doing one last walk through of the apartment, then walked out, leaving the memories of what ‘once was’ behind her. The only thing in her hand was the camera. She walked down the steps and into her mom’s car. Her mom grazed Grace’s hand and then began driving.

The entire car ride home was silent, aside from the occasional click of the camera as Grace scrolled through the photos. She hadn’t realized before that Theo was able to find the beauty in everything. From pictures of the sky, to the trees and its occupants, and to the people in passing, each photo told a story. Theo was able to find something normal and make it extraordinary. It was something Grace wished she would have realized sooner. That was the first time Grace realized that she had lost everything that had ever mattered to her.

 The next few days were pretty slow as she began unpacking her room. She was overwhelmed at all the junk that laid before her so she decided it was time for a walk. She grabbed her camera and was out the door.

Grace didn’t know what had come over her, but as she began to walk, she began to take pictures of her surroundings. She took a picture of the bright blue sky. She took a picture of the birds that hung on the wires. She took pictures of the houses, and the cars that passed by. She took a deep breath. 

Grace remembered what her husband had once told her. 

“Life is full of beautiful moments. Remember them.”

She took another deep breath. She knew then that things would be okay eventually. It may not be that day or even a month from then. But things could only be up from there. She felt her husband’s presence with her, reminding her that she was not alone. So she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t forget him. That she would find him in the small things. The way people talked, the way people laughed. The sun on her skin. In every situation, he would be there, leaving his touch.. Reminding her to feel again, to laugh again, to live again, and to never take anything for granted. Photography would be the door that would lead her to him over and over again, until they were to meet again in the next life.

Photography became her lifeline, keeping her grounded in the chaotic and ever changing world. She had no idea, then, that years later, she would become a big photographer, bringing in clientele from all continents of the world. That her sadness and grief would turn into something that would leave an impact on others for generations to come. Her pain wasn't going to be for nothing.