I shouldn't be here. I had all morning to escape this, when you think about
it, I had 7 months and 18 days to run, but I'm here, holding tight to a
little girl's hand as she watches her brave, brave daddy carry the coffin
that her mother is in.
I wish I could just run away from it, but I can't, I had all morning to avoid this, but now that I'm here I can't let little Erin down. She needs me, BJ needs me, and he's my friend so I can't run away from that.
I'm not family, I barely knew Peggy I don't need to be here, comforting her daughter and husband. I have no right to be at a funeral for a woman I hardly knew. If I have no right though, would BJ have asked me for help 7 months and 18 days ago?
7 months and 18 days ago, life was normal, but then I got a call from BJ, so scared and worried. 7 months and 18 days ago I boarded a plane to California, and arrived in Mill Valley. 7 months and 18 days ago, I found out Peggy Honnicut had cancer.
7 months and 18 days ago I agreed to nurse her, help around the house and generally look after the family in the lady of the house's waning health. I shouldn't have said yes, but as I looked into little Erin's swimming eyes, 7 months and 18 days ago I had to say I would.
I should have left 7 days ago, when Peggy finally closed her eyes, with her husband's lips on hers, with her daughter clasping her hand and with her personal nurse, Margaret Houlihan, me, feeling her pulse as it faded. I should have left the same day, but fate has kept me here, and my newfound love for the Honnicut family.
I still shouldn't be here, my help could only last as long as Peggy was alive, while I nursed her, but now that's she's gone I shouldn't be staying with BJ and Erin, comforting them, cleaning up and cooking. I shouldn't be at the funeral, I had all morning to choose not to come, but now that I'm here, what can I do?
I hold tight to Erin's hand, dry my eyes and join BJ at the graveside. His hand finds mine, searching for warmth and sympathy. I give it everything I have, squeezing his slim hand, and he raises the clasped fist to his lips, kissing it, silently thanking me for the 7months and 18 days of support.
"Will you stay with us and help me raise Erin? We all love your company. Please?" BJ asks and I know there is nothing romantic about it, just a friend asking a friend for help. I know shouldn't say it, but as I look into the swimming eyes of little Erin I know I have to.
"I will BJ."
I wish I could just run away from it, but I can't, I had all morning to avoid this, but now that I'm here I can't let little Erin down. She needs me, BJ needs me, and he's my friend so I can't run away from that.
I'm not family, I barely knew Peggy I don't need to be here, comforting her daughter and husband. I have no right to be at a funeral for a woman I hardly knew. If I have no right though, would BJ have asked me for help 7 months and 18 days ago?
7 months and 18 days ago, life was normal, but then I got a call from BJ, so scared and worried. 7 months and 18 days ago I boarded a plane to California, and arrived in Mill Valley. 7 months and 18 days ago, I found out Peggy Honnicut had cancer.
7 months and 18 days ago I agreed to nurse her, help around the house and generally look after the family in the lady of the house's waning health. I shouldn't have said yes, but as I looked into little Erin's swimming eyes, 7 months and 18 days ago I had to say I would.
I should have left 7 days ago, when Peggy finally closed her eyes, with her husband's lips on hers, with her daughter clasping her hand and with her personal nurse, Margaret Houlihan, me, feeling her pulse as it faded. I should have left the same day, but fate has kept me here, and my newfound love for the Honnicut family.
I still shouldn't be here, my help could only last as long as Peggy was alive, while I nursed her, but now that's she's gone I shouldn't be staying with BJ and Erin, comforting them, cleaning up and cooking. I shouldn't be at the funeral, I had all morning to choose not to come, but now that I'm here, what can I do?
I hold tight to Erin's hand, dry my eyes and join BJ at the graveside. His hand finds mine, searching for warmth and sympathy. I give it everything I have, squeezing his slim hand, and he raises the clasped fist to his lips, kissing it, silently thanking me for the 7months and 18 days of support.
"Will you stay with us and help me raise Erin? We all love your company. Please?" BJ asks and I know there is nothing romantic about it, just a friend asking a friend for help. I know shouldn't say it, but as I look into the swimming eyes of little Erin I know I have to.
"I will BJ."