My mom has been seeing a guy she hasn’t introduced to any of her children yet.But she’s been going out at the weekends for long nights of dancing and coming home with her heels in one hand, sneaking in after dark, as if she’s been swept up in a teenage kind of love.
Yesterday, Mr.Cofrino, who works at the bank, told me that he left his wife because she had a deep dream of working abroad with humanitarian missions.He said he realized their paths didn’t lead to the same place and that he made the decision “out of love”.
Letting gobecauseof love, not the absence of it.
Acting grown-up because of love.
Feeling young because of love.
What islove?
Chapter 62
Ella
August 13th, 2009
Thursday
Philia and Cara hug me good morning when I meet them outside the Research Institute in Verryn.
I feel happy when I go to work, and I always plan something with my girls every week.
We’ve been Skyping constantly.
When I moved out of Bill’s apartment, they both offered to take me in.Cara said she would ask her boyfriend right away if he was okay with me crashing on their couch for a few weeks.Philia affirmed that I could sleep in her king-size bed with her, that her two roommates wouldn’t mind adding a fourth girl to their house squad.I thanked them deeply, but decided that the commute was worth it, that my house in Evermere was where I needed to be.
More than three months have passed since the three of us had that conversation.I feel emotional, enthusiastic about life.
My girlfriends did like Bill.But they weren’t exactly shocked when I told them we were walking away from each other.I believe they’d seen the scene unfolding, but they didn’t push me in either direction.I didn’t ask them to.So they let me feel my emotions and make my own decisions.
Back in college, they fully supported all my dates, some they influenced, and many they even orchestrated (playing cupid right in front of me after holding their secret cupid meetings behind my back).They used to say I was the most complicatedclientin theirtrue love business.
One time, we talked about being “ready to love”.
Thinking about it now, I wonder if we onlyreallylove when we’re ready for it.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Miles,” I confess to them, while we walk up the stairs at the Research Institute, and they don’t seem surprised.Not even close.I’ve been meaning to share it with them for a few days now, but I haven’t managed to.“Just… lately,” I add.
Cara offers me her understanding smile, the one she gives right before starting one of her long, wise speeches.
“I haven’t said anything because you’ve been focusing on yourself,” she says.“And that’s great.We all need those moments in life.I wanted to let you have the time and space for it.Your whole self has been shining brighter,” she says, and Philia smiles next to her, nodding in agreement.“But I’ve never seen your eyes beam so widely, or your smile carry such tenderness as when you told us, back in April, in our Skype call, that you’d just found Miles’s harmonica.You never looked like that talking about any other guy.”
“We’ve known every love interest you’ve had in the last ten years, and you never talked about any of them like that,” Philia says.“There’s something about Miles that stayed imprinted on you.A connection you never built with anyone else.Not even with Bill, even if you had thought about giving him the chance to be that for you.”
There’s something about Miles.There always has been something about Miles.
I leave the Research Institute and walk to the Elmwood Center.Today, I’ll visit each of the patients I’ve been following.I won’t sit at a desk, I won’t read papers, or study results.I’ll check on them, spend time with them, and listen to them.Studies do say that connection is so important in nurturing a patient’s emotional health and sense of identity.
And sometimes, “time is the most precious thing you can offer someone.”
During lunch, I sit next to Miss Vó.She tells me about her granddaughter, who came to visit her yesterday.She’s beaming as she talks about her granddaughter’s ladybug role in the school play she attended last week.Her family is always coming to visit her and driving her to places and events.It warms my heart.Miss Vó was the one who decided she wanted to move to the Elmwood Center.It’s clear she’s found a sense of security here.She wanted a place where she could have a little extra support while maintaining her independence.
Miss Vó is in her 80s and has Mild Cognitive Impairment, a condition that causes noticeable changes in memory and cognitive abilities, but it isn’t severe enough to disrupt her daily life in the same way that dementia would.She occasionally forgets small details: names, places, or parts of a conversation, but still enjoys all the social activities at the Center and always looks forward to our memory games marathons.
After announcing that the next game will be next Wednesday, I get up and say a temporary goodbye to Miss Vó and the other patients who joined us in the cafeteria.
I peek into the Center’s reading room and wave at Miss Oma, who’s quietly and comfortably absorbed in her book of the month.She doesn’t like anyone disrupting her peace during a chapter, so I continue my way down the hall.
