Her Last Bedtime Story

“I’m afraid she doesn’t have much time left.” 

The doctor’s words echo through my mind all the way down to the hollow pit in my stomach. Guilt and the death of hope feel like hands pressed around my throat, suffocating me. I’m here now, 15 years too late and not an ounce of the man I ought to be, but I’m here. On borrowed time. 

He excuses himself and leaves the room. I turn towards my daughter. 

“Hey, thanks for coming.” My ex-wife says, but what she really means is I’m sorry. Sorry for keeping her from you for so long. 

After all this time, I still know how to interpret her words.

“Thanks for telling me.” Is what I reply, but she can tell that what I’m actually saying is I’m sorry, too.

My little girl is a grown woman now, with 25 years behind her. I can’t bear the sight of her lying still on a hospital bed but I also can’t tear my eyes away. She’s still got my nose. The years may have taken her baby fat, I recall fondly, but not that. I feel the hot stain of tears over my cheeks. 

My ex-wife, Mary, places a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be in the cafeteria. Do you want anything?”

I shake my head and she leaves. 

I sit on the chair next to the bed and take my daughter’s hand in mine. An hour passes by with me just staring at her face — a face I haven’t seen in so long, the face I see in my dreams. Why hadn’t I come to her sooner? I close my eyes. The truth is, I had hoped she’d seek me out, offer me forgiveness and tell me her life wouldn’t be complete without me in it. But I knew it was always up to me. Shame overcame my judgment. I have been a coward for all these years and now this is my final punishment. 

“Dad…”

I look up to meet warm brown eyes, the same shade as Mary’s. 

Fresh tears stream down my face. “Ana!”

I rise to kiss her forehead. “Dad, you’re here.” She says weakly. 

“Yes, I...I…” I swallow the sob rising in my throat. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

Ana manages a sad smile. “I was expecting you.”

I cup her cheek. “I’m here. Dad’s here.”

She places her other hand over mine and that’s when I notice the engagement ring. “I have a lot to say. I don’t have—”

I sit and stare at her hand. “...much time, I know.”

A wave of pain crashes over me at this little detail. My baby girl...was supposed to get married. Have a wedding. Lose my last name. Would she have asked me to give her away at the ceremony? Would she have invited me in the first place? Regardless, she’ll never be a bride now. 

“Yes. I’ve accepted that. Really, I have. But dad, I still have to tell you that I love you. I love you and I’m sorry and I missed you—”

She’s just like her mother. What she’s actually saying is goodbye.

I take a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you about the story of the Castle in the Air?”

She blinks, a confused look on her face. “I...yes, it’s my favorite. But dad I’m not done talking—”

“Humor me for a sec, will ya?” She remains silent. “Once upon a time, there was a little princess who lived in a castle made out of clouds. It was paradise. The walls tasted like cotton candy, and the view was spectacular. Everyday she would look down at all the people living on land and wonder what life was like for them. One day she leaned too far out the window and fell from the sky.”

Ana has a coughing fit so I stand and get her a glass of water. 

“I already know this story by heart. Please, let me say what I need to while I still can.”

But I’m a coward trying to run from that word. I don’t want to hear it. Not now, not yet. 

“I think we both need to hear this story again. So let me finish and then you can talk all you want, okay?” She nods slowly.

“So the little princess fell to the earth. Specifically, on a farm owned by a middle aged couple. The farmer and his wife have been childless for years and have always prayed for a miracle. And then on one sunny afternoon, their prayers were answered. Joseph, the farmer, noticed a hole on the roof of their stable. He went in to investigate the damage and found the little princess sleeping soundly on the hay. The girl looked to be about 7 years old, without any knowledge regarding her parents and how she ended up in their stable. When asked where she lived, she would only point to the sky. The husband and wife took her into their home. They thought about the situation for hours and finally decided that if no one comes to claim the girl, then she must be God’s little gift to them. Months passed with the three of them living happily together. Still, no stranger came knocking on their door for the child. The princess was given a name. Do you remember what name they gave her?”

“Ana. Same as mine.” She smiles softly and yawns.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Say, when was the last time you heard this story anyway?”

Ana bites her lip. “The night of my 10th birthday.” The night before your big fight with mom.

I nod and continue. “Ana, Joseph, and Mary spent several years on the farm. In that time, the memory of the castle in the air slowly faded from the princess’s memory and she grew up as a normal human girl. She learned to live, laugh, and love as they do. She experienced things that didn’t exist up in the clouds such as pain, frustration, and fear. Despite that, she was happy. But soon her parents became very old and weak. Eventually they withered and their bodies returned to the earth. Ana was left alone again, in her house made of wood and brick. She wondered if goodbye meant forever. This was her final lesson in life — loss. She often visited the place where her parents were buried and cried. Their bodies lay deep underground, somewhere she could not follow...but was that all humans were made of? She looked to the sky and did as her mother and father had taught her. She prayed.”

Ana lets herself be carried away to the land of dreams and peace. I study her for a moment. All at once, the memories come to me. So many nights tucking her in, watching her drift into sleep. A lot of her has changed but somehow, she is still the same. My little girl. I take her hand again and kiss it gently.

“She prayed to be reunited with them someday. Not knowing how it would be possible, but carrying hope in her heart nonetheless. And one day, her prayer was answered. Ana, too, passed away and was buried next to Joseph and Mary’s grave. But luckily, bodies are only a temporary part of who we are. Their souls met again in that castle in the air, where the walls tasted like cotton candy, and the view could take one's breath away. There, they were safe from the world’s pain and fear and loss. There, they had each other.”

I let my tears fall and land on her palm. Just as I can tell what she’s thinking and feeling, I hope she can do the same for me. I hope she knows that with all that I’ve said, what I really meant was...I wish I could go back to that night before our family fell apart. I wish I had fought to stay by your side every night and watch you grow up to be such a beautiful and bright young woman. I wish you had more time. You are the best thing that has happened to me and your mother. You were our miracle. I’m sorry for leaving you. And I’m sorry for coming back too late. I love you, and I’ll see you again someday. I’ll make it up to you then.