“Look what I made you in school today, Mommy.” The nurse holds Isa on her hip and the phone against her ear so Isa can put her masterpiece on display.
I can’t hear Juliana’s reply, but I have a good guess, anyway. Her energy is zapped, but she gives her little girl every ounce she has in reserve. Juliana slides her fingers along the inside of the glass, touching the drawing with her heart and committing it to her memory. These are the times she uses to keep going in the middle of the night, when it’s pitch-black and eternal sleep would be so much easier than fighting the heavyweight in the ring with her.
The lump in my throat is the size of a watermelon, but I force it down and bottle my emotions with it. My girls need me, and I can’t be the one who breaks under the pressure. I watched my father do that to his family, decimating all of us in the process. That spineless sack of shit didn’t deserve to be in our lives.
I’ll never be that man.
“Mommy wants to talk to you now, Uncle Rod.” Isa hands the phone to me then Lexi takes her behind the nursing station desk to give Juliana and me privacy.
“Hey, little bird. How do you feel today?”
“This little bird is ready to fly the coop, Rod. I’m going stir-crazy in here. There’s only so much public television I can watch before my brain rots.” She leans her weight against the wall separating us, already tired from the few minutes she’s been out of bed.
“Do you want me to have a recliner or something brought in there so you can sit by the window?” I’m afraid she’ll fall down right in front of me.
“No, I’m okay. The bed is usually here, but I asked them to move it to the opposite side of the room so I can get my daily exercise.”
“That’s not funny, Jules. You’re here to rest, get the best medical care, and stay away from all germs. Walking back and forth across the room uses energy you don’t have to spare.”
“So does arguing with you. Now listen. You need to talk to Isa’s teacher and tell her everything that’s going on with me. Right now, she’s still having fun with Uncle Rod. But the time will come when she feels like I’ve abandoned her. She may not come out and say it, but she’ll show it in different ways at school. They need to tell you right away if she does or says anything out of the ordinary. I shared some information with Glenna when I picked Isa up last, but they need to know everything.”
“Consider it done. Don’t worry about anything except getting well.”
“Thank you for always being the best big brother anyone could ask for, Rod. All my life.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t start saying your goodbyes. I’m being straight with you. I can’t handle that.”
She nods, compassion shining in her eyes. “I know there’s nothing you won’t do for Isabelle. Just like there’s nothing you haven’t done for me. And I was thinking, maybe you should get in touch with Dad.”
“No.”
“You can’t stay mad at him forever.”
“Yes, I can.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t push the issue any further. “There’s something you have to do for me, and you can’t say no. I need this, Rod.”
“Name it.”
“My lawyer sent papers over for you to sign. The nurse can call the hospital social worker up here to notarize them.” She inhales a ragged breath, fighting back the tears. “I’m signing over temporary power of attorney over Isabelle to you. If she needs medical care or anything from a parent at school, you wouldn’t be able to stand in for me without it. While I’m in treatment, you’ll have to be her father. Will you do that for me?”
“I would never say no to that request, little bird. You know I’ll take care of whatever she needs while I’m also taking care of you.”
“I do know, and you’re the only person in the world I’d trust with her. Thank you, Rod. I’m sorry you were never given the chance to live your own life. You’ve always had to take care of me, then Isabelle and me. You could never be selfish and only think of yourself at any point.”
“No, Juliana, don’t think like that. Mom offered me a choice of whether I’d raise you or Dad’s parents would take you. But there was never a choice in my mind, and I’ve never regretted it for one second.”
She wipes a stray tear away with a shaky hand. “I need to get back in the bed now. I love you. Tell Isa I love her too.”
“We love you, too. Call or text me if you need anything.”
I place the receiver back in the cradle and watch her move across the room toward the bed, slower than usual, even slower than when she got up a few minutes ago. After she’s safely lying down, Lexi calls the social worker to bring the legal papers for me to sign and her to notarize. Even though I expected this would be the case when I learned of Juliana’s diagnosis, actually signing the papers and taking guardianship of my sister’s daughter feels far too final.
It’s what’s best for Isabelle at this point of Juliana’s treatment, I know that.
But it also makes me think we’re preparing to say goodbye … and I’m not strong enough to do that.
As I walk into the school’s front office the next morning to deliver the temporary guardianship papers, part of me hopes to run into
