the playlist that's in this chapter exists for real! i can't add links on ffnet, but if you search 'my moon and sun' on spotify - it should come up. you'll know which one it is (:
APRIL
After Jackson takes Moonie inside, I head back to my sister and niece. Layne is rolling in the grass and Alice watches me with curious eyes, tipping her head to one side as I get comfortable in my chair.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Oh, yeah," I say, sighing. "I'm fine."
"Auntie April, watch me!" Layne shouts, standing up. The entire front of her yellow dress is covered in grass stains, and I love that Alice doesn't care. That's how we were raised, too. "Watch!"
"I'm watching, babe."
She jumps and spins, then lands on her butt in the dirt. From there, she does a log roll, then a somersault before standing up with her arms raised above her head in a celebratory position. "Ta-da!" she says.
"Very nice," I say.
"Wanna see me do it again?"
"Layne," Alice says, shooting her a look. "Can I talk to your auntie please, just for one second? She was my sister first, you know."
"She's my sister," Layne retorts with a smirk.
"Go play, you goof," Alice says, then turns to me again. "Are you sure everything's okay?"
I let my body relax into the lawnchair and gaze up at the sky. It's yet another clear blue day, not a cloud in sight. The wind ruffles the trees gently, and blows the soft scent of the flowers in my garden towards us. It's perfect. Everything dares to be perfect while, at the same time, nothing is or ever will be.
It's a stupid thought. Fake deep. I've been having a lot of those lately.
"It's Jackson's mom," I say, staring ahead instead of turning to look at my sister. It's easier this way. "She came over a couple weeks ago and offered to watch Ramona so we could have a date night. She pretty much forced it on us, actually. So, we went, and it was actually nice. We didn't stop talking about Moonie the whole time, but it was nice." I laugh and meet her eyes quickly. "We had sex in the car, which was kinda crazy."
Alice laughs, too. She gets how it is, trying to remain sexually active while parenting a toddler. It's not exactly easy.
"But when we got back home, it was a shitshow. Moonie was screaming because Catherine wasn't helping her get into pajamas. It was also like, past 11 at night. She goes to bed at 7:30. And Catherine was just sitting there, claiming that Moon should be able to do it on her own. I had to leave. I picked Moonie up and just left. I heard Jackson raise his voice, but I don't know what he said. I couldn't be in there anymore; I was gonna fly off the handle."
"Jesus," Alice says. "Why would she do that? Does she not understand Krabbe?"
"I don't know," I reply, resting my cheek in an open palm. "I honestly don't know. Maybe she thinks tough love is gonna heal her, or something?" I sigh. "And she sent us this awful book. I mean, the book wasn't awful. It seemed sweet, actually, for someone who actually wants to read it. It was about a polar bear with a polar bear friend who's terminally ill, and the first polar bear has to come to terms with it. She sent us that. For Moonie."
Alice's eyes grow wide and grave as she says, "God."
"Jackson gave it to Goodwill," I say. "I couldn't look at it. It's like… it's not that I don't know, right? I know. I'm very aware of what's happening to Ramona. I don't need sweet little books to remind me."
Alice nods as she watches Layne. I keep my eyes on my niece, too, as she romps around the backyard - doing things Ramona has never done and never will do. She's halfway up a short tree, legs dangling, the skirt of her dress torn. She's got a wild smile painted on her face, hair flying every which way. She waves when she sees us watching, then starts to climb further.
"Layney!" Alice barks. "Not any higher."
"But Mama!"
"Stay there or come down. Your choice," Alice says. She's quiet for a moment, in the middle of a silent standoff, before she turns back to me. "Sometimes, I can't help but think about…" She cuts herself off mid-sentence. I'm sure she's going to talk about the differences between Layne and Ramona, but she proves me wrong. I wish she hadn't. "What things will look like in a few years with… everything."
Alice doesn't meet my eyes, but I see that hers are glassy - and because of that, I know exactly what she means. She's talking about what our family life will look like when Ramona is gone.
"Do you ever wonder?" she asks. She has to know the answer already. I know she does. She's just trying to get me to open up - not maliciously, but still.
"Of course I do," I say, then stand up to effectively tie off the conversation. "I should go check on J and Moonie."
There's a stagnant silence that a sense of understanding passes through. There's no anger, no discomfort, but no continuation of the subject, either.
"Okay," Alice says. "We should get going, anyway. It's bath night for this monster. Layne!" Layne swings to the ground from a low branch and lands with a thump, hurrying over to where me and Alice stand. "Hey, Mom and Dad just got the pool cleaned," she tells me, one hand atop Layne's ginger head. "They wanted me to invite you guys over for a pool day this weekend. Will you come?"
"Sure," I say, forcing my lips up in a meager half-smile. "We'll be there."
After Alice and Layne leave, I go inside and head to the quiet upstairs. With soft feet on the carpet, I peer inside mine and Jackson's bedroom to find him and Ramona lying in the middle of our bed, the curtains blowing in with a nice breeze. She's asleep; he isn't.
He doesn't see me at first, so I just watch him. He's lying on his side, supported by an elbow, stroking Moonie's sleeping face. I can't see his expression, but I don't need to. I'm familiar with the soft look in his eyes and the concentrated set of his mouth, because I wear the same expression all the time. It's an expression with plenty of thoughts behind it.
"Hey, sweetie," I say.
He looks over his shoulder and doesn't seem surprised to see me. "Hey," he says, turning back to Ramona.
"Can I join you?"
"Of course," he says, so I crawl onto my side of the bed - we make a Moonie sandwich with her right in the middle, sleeping soundly still.
I get comfortable and face him, leaning over our daughter to give him a firm kiss on the forehead. I linger there, one hand cupping his cheek, before pulling away to look in his eyes.
"Why?" he says, smiling softly.
"I don't know," I say, then rest my head on the pillow. I touch Ramona's button nose and trace the slope, over her cupid's bow and down to her adorable plush lips. "Isn't she beautiful?" I ask.
Jackson smiles again. "I was thinking the same thing right before you came in."
"Our gorgeous girl," I say, pressing a kiss to her temple, her hairline, the space between her light eyebrows. Then, I lift my eyes to meet Jackson's to find him already looking at me. "Alice invited us to a pool party at my parents' house," I tell him.
"Hmm."
"I said we'd be there."
Jackson is silent, petting Ramona's cheek with the back of his calloused knuckles. He blinks at her serene face but doesn't give me anything in the way of a response.
"Is that alright with you?" I nudge.
"It's fine," he says. "When?"
"This weekend," I say. "Are you sure it's fine?"
He shrugs one shoulder, keeping his gaze on Moonie instead of on me. "If you think we should be there, we should go," he says.
"What's wrong, baby?" I ask. I don't really need to ask; I already know. But Jackson is notorious for the way he bottles up his thoughts and feelings. The last thing I want is for him to explode later over something completely unrelated. "Was it-"
"It's just impossible not to compare her," he says, the words spewing from his mouth, finally freed. "To her cousins, I mean. When Layne ran to greet me and left her in the dust… I don't know. It just did something to me. And I know it's not fair to Layne, it's really not fair to Moonie, to compare them… but I can't help it. When other kids are around, I can't help it."
"I know," I whisper, running the material of Moonie's soft dress between my fingers. It's a white floral ruffle thing that should be covered in the same grass stains that Layne's was, but it's completely clean.
"It isn't fair, April," he mutters, and his voice is so quiet that I barely hear it. If we weren't inches away from each other, I might have missed what he said.
"No," I whisper. "It's not."
"I want her to have fun. I want that more than anything. But I think that's part of the reason why it's so hard for me to see her around other kids. It's like, when she's with us, there's nothing out of the ordinary. We take things at her pace. But when she's around kids her age, I can see her realizing that…"
He turns his head and takes a quick, sharp inhale. He doesn't have to finish the thought; I know where it was headed. I take his hand and hold it tight, saying nothing to offer support. There's nothing I can really say, when it comes right down to it.
"She does love seeing her cousins and my parents, though," I say gently. "She loves them, and they love her. Being around them makes her happy."
"I know," he says, bumping over my knuckles with his thumb. "So, we should go. Because of that. It's just… just…" He looks up and his eyes say more than words ever could.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "Yeah, I know."
…
My sisters, their husbands, and all their kids are at my parents' pool party. Alice, Brian, and Layne; Kimmie, Wyatt, Opal and Jacey; Libby, Craig, Michael, Xander, and Eden. Then there's me, Jackson, and Ramona.
Ramona is the only non-ginger, non-blonde child here, and also the only one not swimming on her own. I'm in the water with her, in the shallow end wearing my pink bikini decorated with small hearts. Jackson loves this one and campaigned hard for me to wear it today, and he ended up winning me over. Moonie is in a long-sleeved, blue-and-white polka dotted set with a skirt on the bottom, and she looks adorable.
She's having a good day today, too. Smiling and even talking a little.
"Mama have hearts," she says from where she's perched on my hip. I bob in the water, submerging Moonie to her shoulders and up again. She points to my chest with her whole hand, to the hearts dotting my bathing suit, and says it again. "Hearts, Mommy."
"Mommy does have hearts," I say, spinning in a circle. "What does Moonie have on her bathing suit?"
"Dots," she says.
"Yes, dots. Yes, you do," I say, then cup my hand to get some pool water and dribble it over her shoulders and the top of her head. It trickles over her curls, the droplets shining as they go, and she smiles as the water gently runs down her face.
Out of nowhere, we get splashed with a giant wave, thanks to Xander who just did a cannonball nearby. I raise my eyebrows, giggling, and Moonie watches in wonder.
"Hey," Jackson says firmly from the deck. "Watch where you're jumping, bud."
"Sorry," Xander says genuinely. "Sorry, Moonie."
Ramona smiles at her cousin, and he comes over to give her a careful hug. Xander is a sweet, soft-spoken boy, 9 years old and Libby's middle child.
"Can I take Moonie around the pool, Auntie April?" he asks.
"Or I can," Opal, Kimmie's daughter - 10 - offers.
"You guys are sweet," I say. "But I think Moonie's gonna stick with me today."
"Aw, okay," they say, then head back to their water activities.
Jackson sits on the ledge of the pool behind us and puts his feet in the water. "Is she good on sunscreen?" he asks.
"I think so," I say. "We just reapplied ten minutes ago." I look over my shoulder and smile at him. "She's okay, Dad."
"Alright," he says, scanning the pool.
"Stop worrying," I say.
"I'm fine," he says. "Let me give you a break. You've been holding her for a while, and your shoulders are pink. Go sit in the shade for a while, Abey."
"You sure?"
"Yeah," he says, hopping in. The water barely reaches his waist.
"Who wants to see Daddy?" I ask Ramona, my voice high and lilting. I hand her over and Jackson cradles her, skimming her back along the surface of the water. Her face lights up in a grin - that is, until she sees me getting out of the pool. Then, she starts to fuss. "Mama will be over here by Gigi," I say, gesturing towards the empty lounge chair next to my mom. "I'll be right where you can see me! I'm not going far. Okay? Play with Daddy, Moon."
She's somewhat consoled, at least for the moment, so I get out of the pool and wrap myself in a towel, heading over to my mom. The shade feels nice, and Jackson was right - I do need to put sunscreen on. I'd slathered Ramona in it and forgot about my own sensitive skin.
"Burning already?" Mom asks, noticing the way I wince as I rub my shoulders.
"Typical," I say with a smile.
Mom grins too and looks towards the pool, watching as Jackson holds Ramona's legs and helps her feet kick in the water. She's squealing, loving the way the water splashes back on her.
"She's just precious," Mom says. "Precious Moonie Grace."
"Yeah," I say.
"And you two are precious with her," she tells me. "Not that you aren't precious on your own." She chuckles. "But seeing my baby with her special baby, well there's just something about that as a grandma. Jackson, too. You both are wonderful parents. I should tell you that more often."
"Thanks, Mom," I say.
"I remember when she was born. How I couldn't wrap my head around you having a baby, because you still seemed like such a baby to me." She pats my hand. "But now, it's so natural for you, I can't imagine anything else."
I smile at her softly, showing no teeth. I do appreciate what she's saying - but we have these types of talks frequently. I get my emotional side from her.
"It just gets me thinking," he says, keeping one hand over mine. "About when you and Jackson are gonna have another and give Gigi more grandbabies."
Instantly, my mood shifts as her words settle over me like a dark cloud. My gut reaction is to snap, bite her head off, but the words won't come fast enough. That, and there are too many thoughts to decide which one should come first.
"I…" I begin, but I don't know where the sentence is headed.
Is she not taking Krabbe into account? It's a genetic disease. For Moonie to get it, both Jackson and I had to have a recessive gene, and we do. It's our fault that she suffers the way she does. How is it fair to put another life at risk like that? It's not. It's not something Jackson and I have ever spoken about, because both of us know where Krabbe came from. We refuse to chance it again.
Even if Krabbe wasn't genetic, I have endometriosis and my mom knows that. She knows it very well, given that I was diagnosed at 14 and didn't get a period until I was 17. We went through those trials and tribulations, all those gynecology appointments, together. I wasn't supposed to be able to get pregnant at all. Moonie herself is a miracle.
I'm not sure if my mom has forgotten all this or if she's being willfully dense. I don't know which is worse.
I take a deep breath and let it out in one short gust. All I can say is, "I don't know, Mom."
Creating a much-welcomed distraction, Jackson saunters up with a dripping Moonie in his arms. "I'm hungry, and I'm gonna try to get this one to eat," he says. "You want anything?"
"No," I say, answering too quickly.
He glances between me and my mom, clearly picking up the vibe that something is off. "You sure? Everything alright?"
"All good," I say, forcing a smile. "See if she'll eat some yogurt, will you, please?"
"Sure thing," he says, then looks at Moonie. "Hear that? Mommy wants you to eat yogurt. You gonna do it?"
She nods her head yes but enthusiastically says, "No!"
"Naughty munchkin," he says, tickling her sides before heading towards the sliding glass door.
Luckily, Jackson's interruption derailed my mom's conversation and she doesn't say much after he and Moonie disappear inside. I take the chance to close my eyes for a minute, turning my head to try and take a nap - and sleep comes almost immediately.
I'm not out for long, though, at least I don't think I am. I'm woken up by the weight of another person joining me on the lounge chair, and I open my eyes to find Libby sitting near me. It takes a moment to clear the cobwebs from my brain, and I blink hard at her and then at Jackson, who's sitting with Moonie in the chair next to mine. He's eating a hot dog and feeding Ramona spoonfuls of smoothie that I hope is loaded with yogurt and peanut butter - two fatty foods that she needs. I trust that he added them on his own, though, and keep my mouth shut to avoid nagging.
"Hey, Lib," I say, voice scratchy with sleep.
"Hey," she says, then leans forward and kisses my cheek chastely - a normal sister greeting for us, one that we'd missed earlier because the kids were running wild. "It's nice to see you. We weren't sure if you'd make it today."
"Yeah," I say. "Well, it turned out to be a beautiful day."
I know she didn't mean that the weather was what our attendance hinged on, but it's easier to make it seem like it was.
"Sorry to wake you," she says. "From across the pool, I couldn't tell that you were sleeping and I noticed too late. If you wanna go back-"
"It's fine," I say, sitting up straighter to stretch my arms above my head. Jackson reaches over with a sly grin and pats my stomach and I know if Libby weren't here, he'd say something about my 'cute tummy.' It's one of his favorite parts of me for silly reasons; he thinks it's adorable and he likes to blow raspberries on it because I'm ticklish there. But we're not alone, so I gently swat his hand away.
"I've just… I've had a lot of my mind these past few days. It was too much to text, and I couldn't grab a minute to call because the boys and Eden have three different schedules now."
"Okay," I say, swiping my chlorine-laden hair out of my eyes. "What's up?"
Her eyebrows lower and she intertwines her fingers, clasping her hands while staring down at them. "I found this YouTube channel that I've been watching to learn more about Krabbe. And the last video I watched, well, I can't get it off my mind. The woman has a son with Krabbe, and she was talking about making the choice whether or not to sign a DNR. She was saying that it's smart to make the decision sooner rather than later, just so you're not doing it in the moment, when things are really bad, and you can make a decision that you're settled with while making the best of the time she has left. And while I was watching it, I… I couldn't help but think about you guys and wonder if a DNR is something you've thought about. I'm so sorry if I'm overstepping; I just couldn't get it off my mind."
Just like my mother, it takes a moment for what Libby said to register. I know Jackson is bristling next to me without even having to look his way. I can feel it.
My nose burns and my throat constricts, threatening tears. Of course, I know what a DNR is. Have we signed one? No. Have we thought about whether or not we should? Casually, sure, but not seriously. Not yet. Ramona is still talking, laughing, and breathing on her own. I've told myself time and time again, just as Jackson has, that we'll know when it's time.
Discouraged by my silence, Libby tries to speak up again. "April, I know that it-"
"No," I say. "No, you don't know. I'm not talking about this with you. Why would you bring this up? We're having a pool party, we're all here having fun. And you're talking to me about when my daughter will die?"
"April, that's not it at all," she says, backpedaling.
"But really, it is," I say. I try to keep calm because Moonie is behind me. I won't raise my voice. "I see it on all your faces. You're all waiting for her to die, or for things to get bad. I know it's because you're scared. But I'm so sick of you people who claim to be 'making the best of the time she has left,' planning her funeral!"
My voice got loud and Moonie starts to cry because of it. Soft little sobs muffled by Jackson's chest. I feel his hand between my bare shoulder blades as he says, "Abey."
"I'm not going to talk about Krabbe with anyone but my husband," I say. I'm not ignoring Jackson but I need to say this. "If you have questions, Google them. Stop trying to give us advice. We don't want it."
We don't wait much longer after that to grab our things and leave. As we're going, I hear Libby and Alice talking in the foyer near the front door.
"I tried to talk to her and she refused to hear me. I'm sorry, but she was a bitch," Libby says.
The comment should grate on me more than it does. But honestly, I don't care what she thinks. After I roll my eyes at Libby's words, my little sister speaks.
"Her kid is dying, Lib," Alice says quietly. "And she's watching it happen."
…
A month later, Jackson and I are in bed with a sleeping Ramona, who's hooked up to the CPAP machine that helps her breathe at night. This is a new addition; sleep apnea started a couple weeks ago, and breathing through this machine helps her while she sleeps. We also use a nebulizer periodically throughout the day. Because of these two things, there's no more chest pain or shortness of breath for Ramona - or, at least, there's a lot less.
But seeing her hooked up to the tubes is enough to send me over the edge sometimes. One of those times is right now, as the sun peeks through the windows and the CPAP machine whirs from the nightstand.
I'm wrapped up in Jackson's arms, crying as quietly as I can. He doesn't say anything to console me; he rubs my back, rocks me side to side, and just allows me to cry.
I don't know how long the jag would have lasted for if Ramona hadn't shifted as she woke up. I do my best to wipe my eyes and try to seem okay as I unhook her from the machine and turn it off.
"Morning, sweetest angel," I say, kissing her.
She blinks slowly, her eyes boring right into mine. "Mommy's crying?" she asks. As she says the words, her own eyes glisten and her chin trembles with emotion. Seeing that gets me started all over again - our empathetic girl. Seeing her feel what I'm feeling breaks my heart and makes it swell all at once.
"Shhh…" I say, pulling her in for a hug. "It's okay. Mommy's okay. I just missed you, that's all. And you're awake now." I sniffle and let out a waterlogged laugh to try and seem happier. "I'm all better now, see?"
Her cheeks are wet with fallen tears, and I wipe them away with my palms as Jackson peers over my shoulder. "Hi, beautiful," he says to Ramona. "Did you go to dreamworld last night?"
She smiles and nods.
Jackson encourages her by saying, "Tell us what you saw."
"Lions," she says. "And… and Elsa and Anna and Olaf."
"Wow," Jackson says, amazed. "What else?"
Before she can answer, Ramona's body goes stiff, her muscles getting rigid as they spasm and jerk. Her face pinches and she starts to cry again - this time, from physical pain.
"Jackson," I say, alarmed.
"All good, we got this," he says, quickly getting out of bed. "I'm gonna start the bath."
"Right, warm water," I say, then pick Moonie up. "Daddy's gonna get a bath going for us, Moon. Shhhh, you're okay. You're okay. It'll be over in a minute. We'll feel better in just a minute."
"Alright, babe," Jackson calls from the bathroom, and I hurry in. He takes Moonie as I strip my clothes, and we work together to get her pajamas off. Once she and I sink under the water together, her muscles slacken a bit - not all the way, but a bit is better than nothing. "Too hot?" he asks.
I shake my head and say, "Just right."
Moonie clings to me, arms wrapped around my neck with her head on my chest. She doesn't make a sound, but I feel the way her body tenses and loosens as moments pass. There's no rhythm to it; the spasms don't have a pattern, and I wish I could make them stop. If I could take the pain away from her and experience it for myself, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
"What are you thinking about?" Jackson asks.
He's sitting on the closed toilet lid, elbows on his knees, watching us. He can always tell when my mind is busy.
"Her," I say. "I wish I could take her place."
"I wish I could, too," he says quietly.
I rub her back and try to get the muscles to relax. It doesn't really work, but I hope the motion comforts her anyway. "I can't stop thinking about what I could've done differently," I say. "And not just like, yesterday or the day before. I mean, maybe I should've gone gluten free when I was pregnant. Maybe I slept on my stomach for too long. I could've tried harder to breastfeed her."
"April…"
"I do think about that stuff, though," I say. "I can't stop."
"It's not about your diet or the way you slept," he says. "And you weren't making enough milk. The lady said that was common, and the formula was fine. I know you remember that." He takes a deep breath. "She doesn't have Krabbe because you couldn't nurse. She has Krabbe because…"
He can't finish. So, I say, "I know. I know why."
Jackson rubs his temples with his thumb and first finger, then pulls out his phone. "I made a playlist for you guys," he says. "Do you want me to turn it on, and I can go find a book of hers to read until the spasms stop?"
"You made a playlist?" I ask.
He turns the phone to show me. On the cover of the Spotify playlist is a picture of me and Moonie at church when she wasn't even one year old - a photo I love. And the playlist is called 'my moon and sun.'
"Oh, Jackson," I say.
He doesn't need to respond; he just presses play. The first song that shuffles up is 'Sing to Me' by Jhene Aiko and Namiko Love - mine and Moonie's song.
When Jackson comes back in with a book under his arm, I give him a long look as the song continues to play and say, "I love you."
"I love you, too, Abey," he says, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. "I picked out a random one. Should I read?"
He tucks Moonie's hair behind her ear so he can see her eyes, and she blinks to give him a 'yes.' At least, that's how I interpret it.
"Okay," Jackson says. "This is called 'Guess How Much I Love You.'"
"Bunny," Ramona peeps, and both mine and Jackon's face break out in wild smiles.
"That's right, Moon," he says. "There are bunnies on the cover."
Then, he begins.
"Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare's very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening. 'Guess how much I love you,' he said. 'Oh, I don't think I could guess that,' said Big Nutbrown Hare."
He flips the book to show Moonie the pictures of the two rabbits, the little one holding onto the big one's ears.
"'This much,' said Little Nutbrown Hare, stretching out his arms as wide as they could go. Big Nutbrown Hare had even longer arms. 'But I love you this much,' he said. Hmm, that is a lot, thought Little Nutbrown Hare."
"Him arms," Moonie says, her body in a more slackened state now. I stroke her hair and we continue to listen to her daddy read.
"'I love you as high as I can reach,' said Little Nutbrown Hare." He flips the page. "'I love you as high as I can reach,' said Big Nutbrown Hare. That is very high, thought Little Nutbrown Hare. I wish I had arms like that."
"Then, Little Nutbrown Hare had a good idea. He tumbled upside down and reached up the tree trunk with his feet. 'I love you all the way up to my toes!' he said."
Ramona giggles, which makes me smile. Jackson grins, too.
"And I love you all the way up to your toes,' said Big Nutbrown Hare, swinging him up high over his head."
"'I love you as high as I can hop!' laughed Little Nutbrown Hare, bouncing up and down."
"'But I love you as high as I can hop, smiled Big Nutbrown Hare - and he hopped so high that his ears touched the branches above. That's good hopping, thought Little Nutbrown Hare. I wish I could hop like that."
"Hop, hop," murmurs Ramona, her thumb in her mouth.
"'I love you all the way down the lane as far as the river,' cried Little Nutbrown Hare. 'I love you across the river and over the hills,' said Big Nutbrown Hare. That's very far, thought Little Nutbrown Hare. He was almost too sleepy to think anymore."
I press my cheek to the top of Moonie's head, holding her close with both arms wrapped around her little body. It's hard to swallow; my throat is tight. No matter what book Jackson chose, I would have found a way to relate it to Ramona - I'm sure of it. But this one is especially bittersweet.
"Then he looked beyond the thorn bushes, out into the big dark night. Nothing could be farther than the sky," Jackson reads. "'I love you right up to the moon,' he said, and closed his eyes. 'Oh, that's far,' said Big Nutbrown Hare. 'That is very, very far.'"
"Big Nutbrown Hare settled Little Nutbrown Hare into his bed of leaves. He leaned over and kissed him goodnight."
"Night-night," Ramona says, speaking through the way her legs stiffen and relax in a way she can't make sense of. I don't know if it stopped hurting, or if she's found a way to ignore the pain.
Jackson notices her legs, but his eyes linger for only a moment before he reads the last line.
"Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile, 'I love you right up to the moon… and back.'"
The stiffness of Ramona's muscles fades suddenly. Her entire body goes slack, limp in my arms like a ragdoll. The episode is done, but she'll be in this state for the rest of the day - maybe even the next few days. Catatonic, unspeaking, barely eating or drinking.
These have been happening more and more lately. Once a week, or every three days.
"Abey," Jackson says, speaking my name while looking at Ramona's placid face. "I think it's time to talk to hospice."