change, a set of circumstances that suddenly alters everything. For me, that moment was meeting Alex. Though I don’t know when or where you’re reading this, I know it means he loves you. It also means he wants to share his life with you, and if nothing else, we will always have that in common.My name, as you probably know, is Carly, but for most of my life, my friends called me Jo…
Katie stopped reading and looked at the letter in her hands, unable to absorb its words. Taking a deep breath, she reread those words: for most of my life, my friends called me Jo…
She gripped the pages, feeling the memory she’d been struggling to retrieve come into focus at last. Suddenly, she was back in the master bedroom on the night of the fire. She felt the strain in her arms and back as she heaved the rocking chair through the window, felt the surge of panic as she wrapped Josh and Kristen in the comforter, only to hear the loud splintering sound behind her. With sudden clarity, she remembered whirling around and seeing the portrait hanging on the wall, the portrait of Alex’s wife. At the time, she’d been confused, her nerves short-circuiting in the hell of smoke and fear.
But she’d seen the face. Yes, she’d even taken a step closer to get a better look.
That looks a lot like Jo, she remembered thinking, even if her mind hadn’t been able to process it. But now, as she sat on the porch beneath a slowly darkening sky, she knew with certainty that she was wrong. Wrong about everything. She raised her eyes to gaze at Jo’s cottage again.
It looked like Jo, she suddenly realized, because it was Jo. Unbidden, she felt another memory float free, from the first morning that Jo had come over.
My friends call me Jo, she had said by way of introduction.
Oh, my God.
Katie paled.
…Jo…
She hadn’t imagined Jo, she suddenly knew. She hadn’t made her up.
Jo had been here, and she felt her throat begin to tighten. Not because she didn’t believe it, but because she suddenly understood that her friend Jo — her only real friend, her wise adviser, her supporter and confidante — would never come back.
They would never have coffee, they would never share another bottle of wine, they would never visit on the porch out front. She’d never hear the sound of Jo’s laughter or watch the way she arched her eyebrow. She would never hear Jo complain about having to do manual labor, and she began to cry, mourning the wonderful friend she’d never had the chance to meet in life.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she was able to begin reading again. It was getting dark, and with a sigh, she stood and unlocked the front door. Inside, she took a seat at the kitchen table. Jo, she remembered, had once sat in the opposite chair, and for a reason she couldn’t explain, Katie felt herself begin to relax.
Okay, she thought to herself. I’m ready to hear what you have to say.…but for most of my life, my friends called me Jo. Please feel free to call me either, and just so you know, I already consider you a friend. I hope by the end of this letter, you’ll feel the same about me.Dying is a strange business, and I’m not going to bore you with the details. I might have weeks or I might have months and though it’s a cliche, it’s true that so many of the things I once believed to be important no longer are. I don’t read the newspaper anymore, or care about the stock market, or worry whether it’s going to rain while I’m on vacation. Instead, I find myself reflecting on the essential moments of my life. I think about Alex and how handsome he looked on the day we were married. I remember my exhausted elation when I first held Josh and Kristen in my arms. They were wonderful babies, and I used to lay them in my lap and stare at them while they slept. I could do that for hours, trying to figure out whether they had my nose or Alex’s, his eyes or mine. Sometimes, while they were dreaming, their little fists would curl around my finger, and I can remember thinking that I’d never experienced a purer form of joy.It wasn’t until I had children that I really understood what love meant. Don’t get me wrong. I love Alex deeply, but it’s different from the love I feel for Josh and Kristen. I don’t know how to explain it and I don’t know that I need to. All I know is that despite my illness, I nonetheless feel blessed, because I’ve been able to experience both. I’ve lived a full, happy life and experienced the kind of love that many people will never know.But my prognosis scares me. I try to be brave around Alex, and the kids are still too young to understand what’s really happening, but in quiet moments when I’m alone, the tears come readily, and sometimes I wonder if they’re ever going to stop. Though I know I shouldn’t, I’ll find myself dwelling on the fact that I’m never going to walk my children to school or that I’ll never get another chance to witness their excitement on Christmas morning. I’ll never help Kristen shop for a prom dress or watch Josh play baseball. There is so much I will never see and do with them, and sometimes I despair that I’ll be nothing but a distant memory by the time they get married.How can I tell them that I love them if I’m no longer there?And Alex. He’s my dream and my companion, my lover and my friend. He’s a devoted father, but more than that, he’s my ideal husband. I can’t describe the comfort I feel when he takes me in his arms, or how I look forward to lying down beside him at night. There’s an unshakable humanity about him, a faith in the goodness of life, and it breaks my heart to imagine him alone. That’s why I’ve asked him to give you this letter; I thought of it as a way of making him keep his promise that he would find someone special again — someone who loves him, and someone he could love. He needs that.I was blessed to be married to him for five years and I’ve mothered my children for less time than that. Now, my life is almost over and you are going to take my place. You’ll become the wife who grows old with Alex, and you’ll become the only mother my children will ever know. You can’t imagine how terrible it is to lie in bed, staring at my family and knowing these things, and realizing there’s nothing I can do to change them. Sometimes, I dream that I’ll find a way to come back, that I can find a way to ensure they’re going to be all right. I like to believe that I’ll watch over them from heaven, or that I can visit them in their dreams. I want to pretend that my journey isn’t over and I pray that the boundless love I feel for them will somehow make it possible.This is where you come in. I want you to do something for me.If you love Alex now, then love him forever. Make him laugh again, and cherish the time you spend together. Take walks and ride your bikes, curl up on the couch and watch movies beneath a blanket. Make him breakfast, but don’t spoil him. Let him make breakfast for you as well, so he can show you he thinks you’re special. Kiss him and make love to him, and consider yourself lucky for having met him, for he’s the kind of man who’ll prove you right.I also want you to love my children in the same way I do. Help them with their homework and kiss their scraped elbows and knees when they fall. Run your hand through their hair and assure them they can do anything they put their mind to. Tuck them in at night and help them say their prayers. Make their lunches; support them in their friendships. Adore them, laugh with them, help them grow into kind, independent adults. What you give them in love, they’ll return tenfold in time, if only because Alex is their father.Please. I beg you, do these things for me. After all, they are your family now, not mine.I’m not jealous or angry that I’ve been replaced by you; as I mentioned already, I consider you a friend. You’ve made my husband and children happy, and I wish I were around to be able to thank you in person. Instead, all I can do is assure you that you have my everlasting gratitude.If Alex has chosen you, then I want you to believe that I have chosen you as well.Your friend in spirit,Carly Jo
When Katie finished reading the letter, she wiped her tears and ran her finger over the pages before slipping them back into the envelope. She sat quietly, thinking about the words that Jo had written, already knowing she would do exactly as Jo had asked.
Not because of the letter, she thought, but because she knew that in some inexplicable way, Jo was the one who’d gently urged her to give Alex a chance in the first place.
She smiled. “Thank you for trusting me,” she whispered, and she knew that Jo had been right all along. She’d fallen in love with Alex and she’d fallen in love with the children and she already knew that she couldn’t imagine a future without them. It was time to go home, she thought, it was time to see her family.
Outside, the moon was a brilliant white disk that guided her as she made her way toward the jeep. But before climbing in, she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Jo’s.
The lights were on and the windows of the cottage were glowing yellow. In the painted kitchen, she saw Jo standing near the window. Though she was too far away to make out much more than that, Katie had the sense she was smiling. Jo raised a hand in a friendly farewell, and Katie was reminded again that love can sometimes achieve the impossible.
When Katie blinked, however, the cottage was dark again. No lights were on and Jo had vanished, but she thought she could hear the words in the letter being carried on the gentle breeze.
If Alex has chosen you, then I want you to believe that I have chosen you as well.
