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Excerpt from Margaret Parangosky's Personal Journal:
The happiest day of my life was the day I gave birth to my daughter, Allison. I'd never believed in love at first chance; Terrance chased me for nearly a year before I gave him so much as a glance. And yet...the moment I saw her face I knew I would love her forever. I only felt love like that once more; the day I met my granddaughters, Lillian and Klare. They were so small and fragile and...perfect. There was no doubt in my mind that there was nothing I would not sacrifice for them. Absolutely nothing. And in the last ten years, they have forced light into the dark and dangerous life I have chosen as my own. I've seen agents lose themselves in this work and always wondered if I'd follow the same path. It was these two little pieces of sunshine that kept me safe.
Which makes it all the harder to sit here, watching as the machines show Klare's heart slow.
None of us understand what happened. She was healthy and happy on her birthday but...by the time summer came around, she couldn't leave her bed. I pulled every string I have, as did Terrance, but no doctor we pulled in was able to tell us what was wrong. All we could do was watch her waste away, becoming barely more than a shadow of the child she had once been.
But this illness didn't stop her light. I'm starting to think nothing can. She had Lillian come to her room every day and tell her what had happened in school. Terrance made a cart she could sit in and would tow her around the village on his bike so she could get some fresh air. I taught her how to sew and she started embroidering small handkerchiefs and giving them away. She even insisted on helped Allison cook for the hospital bake sale, to raise money for children that could be saved. It's almost as though her light has grown brighter in direct defiance to the poison that is trying to snuff it out.
But she is only a little girl, and she can only fight so long. Which is why I'm here, sitting beside her bed and waiting for the moment that I lose a part of my heart that I'll never get back. The doctors tried to keep her in the hospital, but Klare...she wouldn't accept it. She insisted on coming home to help decorate for Christmas. Her room; my god, it looks like Santa's own workshop in here. There are lights and garlands and more toys than she could ever hope to play with...
Klare is sleeping for now. She doesn't have much strength left, and she asked me to sing to her. I don't have the best voice but...how could I refuse her? And the way she smiled...it almost made me think that my song couldn't possibly be as bad as I thought it was. I even got a little laugh whenever I would call her an angel. Makes me wonder if she realizes just how much of an angel she actually is. My little angel...as bright and good and kind and beautiful as any angel could ever hope to be. There was never really a need for religion in my life, but I've prayed more in the last couple months than I think some priests will pray in their lives. Anything to spare her, anything to give her one more day. And even though those prayers aren't being answered, I hope that any afterlife that might exist realizes just how precious this little child is.
I'm trying to stay strong for her. The sight of tears always makes her upset and I don't want her final hours to be tainted by anything. Let her last memory be of peace and joy, not of sadness or fear. That's what I keep telling myself, but I'm not sure I can keep my promise. I'm not sure...how I'm going to survive this. People keep saying that I've lived without her before and that I can do it again, but...if you live your entire life without clean air and water, then gain them only to lose them at a later time, do you really live? Or do you simply not die? I'm not sure I know...and I'm afraid to find out.
Terrance has checked in on us a couple times. His heart is as heavy as mine, and it's almost more than I can bare to see the agony on his face. From the glances he's given me, I'm almost sure I look the same. Parents were never meant to outlive their children, and grandparents were certainly never meant to outlive their grandchildren. I feel like there's a gaping hole in my heart and she isn't even gone yet; I'm afraid of what I will become when I lose her. Even if it's made people accuse me of going soft, I've tried to live a life that she would be proud of these last few years. But now, as I lay her beside her, I'm afraid it will all be for naught. I'm afraid I will become the one thing she was always afraid of. I'm afraid...
Wait...the beeping...oh god...no...NO!
Babble Time: The song used in this chapter is Goodnight, my Angel. There are multiple versions of this song and all are lovely, so listen to whichever you want.