Page 17 of Letting Go at 40

Summer was here again.

Autumn and Logan were officially married, and she had a baby boy, whom they named Ben. No one missed the cruel irony that Ben was dying in the same hospital where his sister had given life. It was there when Ben made a final request. He wanted to go home to Lakeside Cottage.

Only a week or so after baby Ben’s birth, the gang had gathered for his christening. Uncle Ben wasn’t able to attend, so Zack recorded the ceremony. To my surprise, Logan asked me to be the godfather.

“There’s no one I’d trust more.”

I’m certain he trusted Ben more, but Ben wasn’t going to be around to teach this new little guy the ropes of life. How to push Daddy’s buttons and pull Mommy’s chain and learn dirty words and get into trouble. That job always fell onto me. I especially loved riling up Zack’s twin sons with double entendre words. Calvin and Bryce were old enough to appreciate sarcasm and an inappropriate joke. Mila and Lorna were still little princesses, but it didn’t mean I didn’t sneak them candy when moms said no or argued in favor of John Hughes movies when their moms said they were too young.

On this mid-July day, with all of us gathered for baby Ben’s celebration, Ben asks us to take him to the beach. The request was out of the blue, and honestly, no one believed he should go down to the sand and sit in the heat. Thankfully, Anna was out with Autumn, and Mila, and Lorna, spending what Anna said was a much-needed day out for the new mother.

So without Anna’s permission or her presence, we encouraged Bryce and Calvin to set up a canopy on the beach, while Zack and I took turns carrying Ben down the one-hundred and fifty steps to the water’s edge. His body was merely a wisp in my arms. The load lighter than believable in a once-healthy forty year old man. I couldn’t think about the frailty too much, or tears burned my eyes, and Ben didn’t want tears.

Wrapped under a blanket and protected from the sun, Ben is quiet as we watch his teenage boys toss a ball and chase Zack’s twins.

“That’s the future of Four Points,” I say, tipping my beer in the direction of the boys before glancing over at baby Ben. Maybe one day Lynlee will be among us. Maybe she’ll be part of that future, but not today. Today is for the men in our friend-family.

“It’s the cycle of life,” Ben suddenly states, staring off at his sons. “You live and love, lose and learn, and then you start all over again.”

“To the cycle,” I state, holding up my beer and saluting Ben.

“To the future,” Ben states, his eyes focused on his children.

“But also, to the past.” Zack stares at our sick friend as he speaks.

“To friends forever,” Logan adds, and I groan at how the statement sounds like he’s a thirteen-year-old girl. The sentiment isn’t lost on me, though, even when I try to lighten the mood by teasing him. Ben will always be a part of us, having shaped our lives by bringing us together in the past and forging our future with his investment in Four Points Construction.

“I’ve had the best life,” Ben eventually says. “Because I lived every moment of it.”

The beer on my tongue tastes like the sand at my toes. I swallow down the bitter brew and turn my head toward Ben who is staring at Logan’s baby boy. With a glance at Zack, I sense we are thinking the same thing.

This is the end.

Later that night, I spend a few minutes alone with Ben after Anna has ripped into me for allowing the guys to take Ben to the beach. Zack redirected Anna, taking her for a walk to cool down, while I helped Ben with his needs. It’d been a good day but the effort of it has crashed over Ben like a strong wave against an infant sea turtle.

With Ben tucked in, I ask what I’ve been afraid to ask.

“Why me, Benners?” I whisper to him as he lays quiet and still on his hospital bed. The one keeping him elevated.

Ben swallows hard, the motion a strain for him. “Why what?”

“Why are we friends?”

Ben slowly rolls his head on the pillow without opening his eyes. “Because you needed one. And so did I.”

My throat clogs for the hundredth time this day. I roll my lips and lick them.

Ben read me correctly from the moment we met. He didn’t see me as the wealthy kid throwing raging parties and pissing off my parents. He saw that I didn’t have anyone genuine in my life and he chose himself to be that person. My person.

“You didn’t ask me to stay,” I say next, uncertain where I’m really going with my statement. Am I asking him a question? Like why didn’t he ask? Do I want to know the answer?

“Family don’t need to ask. They just show up for each other.” Ben’s hand flinches on the mattress and my eyes focus on the struggle of his movements. “I had faith you’d step up.”

His arm continues to twitch, slowly vibrating against the bed, moving in my direction. I don’t know what he wants but I have something for him.

I cup his hand with mine, pressing between us a flat, hard form. I close my hand over his, squeezing the solid item between his frail hand and the strength of my palm.

“Don’t let go, Ben,” I whisper, lifting our joined hands for my forehead and closing my eyes, sending up a silent prayer. I’m not ready to lose the one constant in my life, and yet, he’s suffered enough.