Paula's Goodbye

        Paula was a year older than Fred to the day. She reminded Fred of that fact each year on their shared birthday. Each year at their shared birthday party, Paula would lean over to Fred and whisper, “you know I am a year older than you right?”

Fred, smiling, would nod or whisper back “right.”

Then Paula would say, a little louder “and that means I am a year smarter, a year funnier, and at least a year more clever than you right?”

Fred would pause, look into his sweetheart’s eyes, feign as if he had to think about it, smile and nod.  

              Paula and Fred had now shared seventy-four birthdays. They repeated their ritual each year without fail. Even during the busy years following their marriage, when Fred was off on business, the two would call each other on the phone, and Paula would remind Fred that she would always be one year older, with all the advantages that came with it.

Paula met Fred during the summer of her sophomore year of high school. Fred’s parents were killed in a car crash when Fred was nine years old. He and his three younger siblings moved to Wabash, Indiana to live with their Aunt Paige and Uncle Barry. Fred was painfully shy, often opting to stay quietly on the sidelines rather than risk making a fool of himself. He could not even look a girl in the eyes, even when starting high school. That all changed when he met Paula.

              Paula was everything Fred was not. When she entered a room, every set of eyes fell on her. She was tall for a girl, standing at around five feet nine inches. Her voice carried for miles, and she was not shy about using it. She had fiery, red hair, and so many freckles that in the summer they would all just blend together, leaving her the only redhead she knew who could tan. She was stubborn, loving, passionate, and best of all, very attracted to the “strong silent” types.

Paula first laid eyes on Fred on the evening of her seventeenth birthday. She was working at South Side Soda Shop when Fred and a few of his friends came in to order dinner. She took their orders and watched from the kitchen as Fred and his friends enjoyed their burgers, fries and Cokes. When she dropped off their check, one of the boys — the one sitting next to Fred – grabbed the check, then turned to Paula, and told her that it was Fred’s birthday. Fred immediately began blushing and slugged his friend in the arm.

Paula, thinking the boys had somehow found out it was her birthday, said, “are you boys playing with me, or are you telling me that you and I share a birthday?” All of Fred’s friends eyes fell on him, at which point he pulled out his paper driver’s license and handed it to her.

“Well,” Paula said. “In that case, I will have to get you something special for dessert.” She winked at Fred and walked back toward the kitchen, leaving Fred blushing even deeper among his group of laughing friends. After a few minutes, Paula returned with a plate of apple pie alamode to find Fred sitting alone in the booth. He looked as though he was about to stand up and bolt out of the restaurant.

“What kind of friends would abandon someone on their birthday?” Paula asked, setting the pie in front of Fred. Fred’s face was now so red Paula wondered whether he might collapse in the booth.

“They’re idiots,” he said smiling, while nervously fiddling with a spoon. “They thought they could force me to talk to a girl by piling out of the store once one says more than two words to us.”

Paula smiled and turned, looking at the glass paneling of the storefront windows. She could see the tops of three heads, peering just high enough over the painted portion of the glass to see inside.

“Well, they lucked out, because I love to talk and I just started my break.” Paula said, sitting in the booth seat across from Fred. She pulled a small candle out of one of her apron pockets and stuck it into the melting scoop of vanilla ice cream. “Make a wish,” she said, pulling a small lighter from the same pocket and igniting the solitary candle.

“Shouldn’t you make one too?” Fred asked.

Paula smiled for a moment, scrunched up her nose, deep in thought, and finally said, “ok, I have mine. Do you have yours?”

“No.” Fred replied. “But the ice cream is melting so let’s just blow out the candle.”

Paula placed her hand in between the candle and Fred’s face. “Not until you make a wish.” She smiled at Fred, who would not meet her eyes for more than a brief moment.

“Ok.” He said. “I have one.” Fred looked up from the cake and into Paula’s large, blue-green eyes. Fred and Paula then blew out the candle together and shared the pie. Their first date occurred without Fred even having to ask her out. From that moment on, they were inseparable. The two came together so easily, so effortlessly it was as if they were a single planet, with all other externalities jettisoned into a distant orbit. They proved to each other time and time again, over the course of the months, years, and decades spent together, that they loved each other. Through the struggles, the arguments, the tears and sorrows, they held to each other, pushing everything else away as less important.

Paula sat in the quiet, clean hospital hallway. Her bright yellow sundress would have once clashed wildly with her thick auburn hair. Now it complimented the gray. She had determined that day that she was done with the crying, the pleading, and the despair. She accepted the facts as they were. After the fall, Fred would never be coming home. He would spend whatever time he had left confined to a hospital bed. She even recognized that in some ways, it was for the best. The last several months had been nearly too much for her to handle. She admitted, at least to herself, that the signs were there, even if she did not want to see them at first. He had begun struggling to remember words of common objects, then people’s names. Finally, and most painfully, Fred no longer recognized her. Paula knew that on some level, there had to be some fragment of her left in Fred’s memory. The young nurses continually reassured Paula that Fred often asked, “where his sweetheart was” when she was gone. Fred’s spirit had simply moved on a little faster than his body. She accepted that now; she could be strong for Fred. What Paula refused to do, however, was leave his side.

Every day for the past nine weeks, Paula walked the four and a half miles to Ball Memorial Hospital to visit Fred. By the end of the first week, everyone knew Paula well and did everything they could to ensure her visits were to her liking. Today was Paula and Fred’s birthday. On her lap sat a small carrot cake she purchased on her way to the hospital. Atop the cake sat a solitary, white candle.

Jackie, one of Fred has assigned nurses, approached Paula smiling. “Fred just finished lunch, are you ready to go see him Paula?” Paula smiled back and stood up, allowing Jackie to lead her toward Fred’s room. Jackie paused, looking down at the cake. “Can you wait here for just a sec?” She asked.

As Jackie walked over to the nurse’s station Paula waited, watching Jackie converse with another of Fred’s nurses. She could not stop herself from glancing to the side at the prominent sign reading “no open flames”. Jackie returned, smiling warmly. She glanced quickly side to side and placed something small in Paula’s free hand. Jackie winked and led Paula the rest of the way to Fred’s room. As Jackie pulled the door shut, she silently placed her finger over her mouth and winked.

Paula placed the cake on the rolling table and opened her hand, finding a small, plastic lighter. Paula was prepared to perform the birthday ritual absent the customary candle lighting. Fred did not have to use oxygen, so there was no real risk, but she did not want to jeopardize the already preferential treatment the hospital staff gave her by circumventing the rules. She looked back at the door, struggling to hold back grateful tears. She approached and sat down in a chair positioned next to Fred’s bed. Fred turned and looked at Paula. He smiled, looking slightly confused and said “hello.”

              Paula smiled back, placing the cake on a tray in front of Fred. “Today is your birthday Fred.” She said as she flicked the lighter on and lit the candle.

              “Is it?” He asked.

              “It sure is, and believe it or not, it’s my birthday too.” Paula said, placing a hand on Fred’s.

              “Well Happy Birthday to us then.” Fred said, smiling affectionately at his unexpected guest.

              “You know I am a year older . . . “ Paula paused, her eyes brimming with tears as she struggled to say the words she had said dozens of times before. Fred appeared confused as to why his sweet visitor would all of the sudden become upset.

“You know I am a year older than you right?” Paula finally whispered the words as tears streaked down her aged, weathered face. She had promised herself she could be strong. She wiped her eyes and smiled at Fred. Fred did not smile back. He slowly peered down at the candle, now burning brightly in the dimly lit room. He returned his gaze to Paula, peering deeply into her eyes as if searching them. Moments passed, and Paula shrunk slightly in her chair. She thought she had accepted the facts, but it still hurt. Her face fell as a fresh wave of tears filled her now-closed eyes.

She felt Fred gently pull his hand free from hers and immediately missed its warmth. A moment later, she felt that tender hand rest softly on her cheek. She placed her hand over his once more and slowly looked up, allowing herself to hope just once more. Fred’s loving gaze met her own, and she knew, instantly that he recognized her.

“You are one year older than me right?” Fred asked, fighting to maintain his wavering focus.

“That’s right,” Paula said, “which means I am a year smarter, a year funnier, and at least a year more clever than you, right?” Fred looked away for a moment, appearing to lose track of the conversation. He turned, smiled at Paula and nodded.

“Paula.” Fred whispered as his eyes glistened with tears. “Happy birthday my love.”

For a single, precious afternoon, Paula had her husband back. They sat for hours talking about their children and grandchildren; about their lives and the hundreds of wonderful memories, they had shared over the course of their lives together.

Long after the candle had burned down to the frosting of the carrot cake, Jackie knocked and quietly entered the room. “I just wanted to check on how you two are doing, no hurry but dinner started about twenty minutes ago.” She left as quickly and quietly as she had come leaving Paula and Fred alone once more. Paula leaned down and kissed Fred softly.

“I better get going, dear,” Paula said, “I have had such a lovely time talking with you. This might be our best birthday yet.”

Fred nodded in agreement, smiling as Paula walked toward the door. “See you tomorrow then sweetheart.” He said. Paula slipped out the door as the nurses entered with Fred’s dinner. She made her way home, marveling at the gift she had received. Somehow, in that moment, she knew today had been her last real moments with Fred. She would continue to visit him until the end, but she somehow she knew that this had been their final goodbye. The pain was still there, and Paula knew it would continue, along with her love for him, long after Fred passed. Today had been enough. That precious, comforting gift was more than Paula had even thought possible. Her love for Fred, and the knowledge that he loved her back just as much, was all she needed to say her final goodbye.