“That’s more than she’s done with me.”
Koesler clenched his teeth. “I know. I’ve even talked to her about that. She just won’t. But you can’t blame yourself for that either. It’s simply not your fault.”
“She’s my sister!”
“But you feel no hatred toward her. You tried to help her. It didn’t work out. That she won’t talk to you is her problem.”
“But I thought … you know … the condition I’m in … I thought she’d make peace now.”
“So did I. But if it’ll make you feel any better, we’ll make it part of your confession. If you did anything wrong-and I assure you you didn’t-you’re sorry and God will forgive you.”
Louise was quiet.
“Is that it, Louise?”
“Yes. Mostly I wanted to get that off my mind-that part about Martha.”
“Okay. I’ll give you absolution now, Louise. And for your penance … well, uh …” What sort of penance might he add on to her present suffering, he asked himself. Nothing, he concluded.
“For your penance, Louise, offer your suffering to God.”
“Oh, I do, Father, I do.”
“Good.” He absolved her, then tucked the stole back in his pocket.
During Louise’s confession, Koesler had gazed absently at the variety of bottles and vials that nearly covered the nightstand.
“Is all this medication?”
“Most of it. There’s some vitamin supplements too.”
“Mind if I look?”
“Go ahead.”
Koesler began to finger the bottles, turning each to read the label. “Hmmm … looks like you’ve got a lot of vitamin C.”
“Good for cancer … at least that’s what I’ve read.”
He picked up a bottle to get a closer look. A very small bottle, he guessed it held fifteen or twenty pills. Even with so few pills the bottle seemed full. And that made it unique among all these medications and bottles. Morphine, the label read. “This for pain?”
She nodded.
“You’re not taking any? Or you just refilled the prescription?”
“I’ve taken one or two.”
“Don’t you need more than that?”
“Father, I haven’t told anyone. Will you keep a secret?”
“I’m good at that.”
“This may seem kind of silly … but all during Lent I’ve tried to unite my suffering with all that Jesus went through. I’m offering it up.”
“For what?”
“The kids, mostly. Lucy is so young and has such talent. She could throw it all away with maybe a bad marriage.
“And Tony’s a good boy. I think he’s going to get very rich. I pray he doesn’t let that go to his head. He could do so much good for others … as long as he doesn’t get sidetracked.
“And then …” She hesitated. “… there’s Vincent.” She hesitated again. “My priest son.” She smiled. “When he was little I’d take him to Mass with us. He took to it like a duck to water. I started way back then to pray for him. He seemed a natural to become a priest. But I didn’t want to push him. And I don’t think I did; he did it all on his own. I want him to be such a good priest …”
She seemed to be making an effort to speak strongly. “And so I’m offering my little illness for the kids.”
“That’s beautiful, Louise. But if they knew what you were doing I’m sure they’d object. They don’t want you to suffer. I can’t think that God wants you to suffer.”
She smiled weakly and patted Koesler’s arm. “Honest, when it gets unbearable, I take one. I’ve already taken a couple. Besides, the doctor explained some of the side effects that can happen when you take very much. I’m better off without it.
“But you promised,” she said insistently. “I don’t want the kids to know. You’re probably right: They’d be upset. So, you won’t tell anybody?”
Koesler shook his head. “No, I won’t. But how about Lucy? Doesn’t she give you your medication and vitamins?”
“No. I’m determined to take care of myself for as long as I can, for as much as I can-”
“Din … ner …” Lucy called from downstairs.
Louise swung her legs over the side of the bed and slowly raised herself erect, motioning off Koesler’s proffer of assistance.
“Can I help you downstairs?” he asked.
“No … thank you. Just be patient, please; I go kind of slow.”
She did indeed. But Koesler stayed a step ahead of her just in case she were to fall.
The aroma of spaghetti and meatballs permeated the downstairs, tantalizing to all but Louise. After Koesler had led them in grace she forced herself to eat small portions and then to linger at table for longer than she really wished. Lucy, Vincent, and Koesler exchanged concerned looks as Lucy removed her mother’s still nearly full plate after everyone else was finished.
“Dessert, Mother?”
Louise accepted a small portion of Jell-O and listlessly downed it. Then, explaining that she was very tired, she rose and, accompanied by Vincent, made her way up the stairs.
She stretched out atop the quilt, telling Vincent she just wanted to rest for a little bit before getting ready for bedtime; would he stay with her?
Of course.
She stroked his cheek where a bit of stubble showed. He had been clean-shaven early in the morning. It was getting late in the day and in a little while he would have to return to St. John’s.
“Baby …”
“I’m twenty-four years old. In a couple of months I’ll be a priest. And still she calls me ‘Baby.’”
But he didn’t really mind. Their love for each other was a mother-son epitome.
“Baby,” she repeated, “are you all ready?”
“Ready? For what?”
“To get ordained.”
He smiled. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I mean, this has been really tough on you-me being sick and all. Don’t tell me it hasn’t been a distraction.”
“You didn’t choose to get sick now, Ma. We have to roll with the punches.” He smiled encouragingly. “But we can do it.”
“How are your studies going?”
“What’s this all about, Ma? Why are you so concerned about how I’m doing and my studies?”
“It’s funny: I’ll never be able to make anyone understand. But … I can feel your prayers. They seem to take away a lot of the pain.”
“No kidding! You feel my prayers?” His eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s not just mine. There are lots of people praying for you, you know.”
“If it was anybody else, I could tell. That’s why no one will believe me. I know it’s your prayers. But I don’t want you to let your school-work go. You’re so close to the end now.”
Vincent smiled broadly. “Don’t be concerned about my schoolwork …” He nodded assuringly. “That’s in the bag.”
“Sure?”
“Sure!” he emphasized.
She ran her fingers through his hair. He simply leaned closer to make the gesture easier.
“Baby, I’ve got one last request for you-”
“What’s this ‘last’ business?”
“Humor me. Someday very soon you’re going to be at God’s holy altar. You’re going to offer the holy sacrifice of the Mass. What I ask you is for you always to have me in your heart. Let me be part of every Mass you offer …” She fixed him with her gaze. “Promise me.”
Vincent choked back a sob. “Don’t talk like this, Ma. Of course you’re going to be in my Masses. But you’re going to be in the prayers for the living. And you can check me out. You can remind me from time to time. But you won’t really need to check: I’ll remember.
“Which reminds me: What dress are you going to wear to my ordination? And whichever one you choose, are you going to wear the same one for my first Mass the next day?”
She laughed softly. “Baby, I’ve lost so much weight, I’ll have to buy a new one. And as long as it’s new, I think I’ll probably wear it for the first Mass too.”
“Sounds good, Ma. In another week you’re going to wonder what it was like to be sick.”
Her smile was like a sunburst. “I can hardly wait, baby.” She lay back and licked her lips.
“Can I get you some water, Ma?”
“No … no, I’ll be fine. But I think I need to get some sleep. This has been a busy day.”