Two souls languish in disappointment. One prays desperately that his child’s heart will somehow match his form. The other prays that somehow finally that her form will at last match her heart. Both will find out that it’s not about what, but about who we are.
Previously...
“Okay. Is it serious?” Jordan had been dealing with too much rejection to begin with between her father and the church youth group. It was a wonder that Daniel had kept his position as care pastor considering the ‘rebellion’ he faced from his ‘son.’ The church stood by him in his time of need, with several of the church wives reaching out to Paula; unsuccessful to date, but they prayed that she’d come to her senses. It was probably a good thing that none of the women who called her knew any Italian.
“Oh, all rashes indicate something other than just a problem with the skin, honey. Don’t worry; it’s probably something we can treat with antibiotics; we’ll get you good as new in no time."
The phrase was particularly painful; even with an okay from her psychologist, her other doctors preferred to have her wait until after graduation and all of them hoped that she would be fortunate enough to have her father change his mind and support her. Still, it was better than most; pre-operative at just past her sixteenth birthday, she had all the time in the world, as her doctors reminded her. No one knew then just how wrong they were.
A few days later
Paula sat on the couch staring at the bowl of soup on the coffee table; she was left with no appetite after yet another phone call with Daniel that yielded no fruit whatsoever and just added to the problem. The church took no position publically, but the treatment his family received was anything but loving; Rachael had stopped going altogether and was attending a church along with her girlfriend’s family. Jordan continued to attend, but the treatment she received left Paula angry and saddened at her daughter’s lack of support. The phone rang.
“Hello? Oh… Come in? We have an appointment…the doctor needs…okay.” She hung up the phone and looked down the hall.
“Jordan… We need to see Dr. Phillipousis this afternoon…honey?” She waited a few seconds and heard no reply.
“Jordan?” She got up and walked down the hall to Jordan’s room. Jordan was sitting at her desk; her laptop was open, but turned off. The girl stared at her reflection in the darkened screen; she didn’t seem to notice Paula’s presence.
“Jordan, honey? What’s wrong?” Paula tried to hide the concern in her voice, but the phone calls seemed to set her on an anxious edge; especially with the urgency of the doctor’s request.
“Mom…look at me.” She turned and her face displayed a very worried and even sad expression, along with a darker, butterfly shaped rash that spanned her face across her nose. Paula let out a gasp. The girl stood up and went to walk toward Paula but stumbled slightly; her movements seemed stiff and restricted.
“My whole body hurts, Mom…what’s wrong?” Her body wasn’t trying to make another statement of rejection against an already too saddend self, but nevertheless, something inside her seemed to reflect that same rejection she had gotten from her friends and even her father. She stopped short of falling down, catching her balance as she grabbed the back of her desk chair. Paula rushed to her side and embraced her.
“Mom…I don’t feel so good….” She would be sorely pressed to say which hurt more; the pain in her body or the ache in her heart, but either way, Jordan was hurt…badly, and she needed the strength that can only come from knowing she was loved. Paula rubbed her back and walked her to her bed. As the girl lay down, Paula gave into the moment; a mother can only be so strong herself without resources. She lay down beside her daughter and began to weep while holding the girl tightly against her breast.
"I know, baby...I know..."
A few weeks later...The office of Dr. Nancy Rosenberg
“Jordan?” The girl had been staring at the artwork on the wall before returning her attention to her doctor.
“I know this is hard for you to hear, but we… Let’s just see how things progress. We’re not stopping anything, honey, but we have to consider how your body is dealing with the Lupus, okay?” Yet another doctor in another office in a long line of medical intervention. It had been six months since her diagnosis, and things hadn’t gotten any better in all too many ways. Daniel had reached out to her in a manner of speaking, but it was only to express his regret for her health; he still refused to acknowledge that he had a daughter instead of a son, which left her feeling less secure than before.
“I feel fine.” She lied; and not at all convincingly. Paula gently squeezed her hand.
“Since we’ve seen no adverse effects, we’ll continue with the treatment, but….” Nancy’s voice trailed off. Both Paula and Nancy had struggled how to tell the girl that her condition was deteriorating rapidly; most patients respond reasonable well to to treatment, but it wasn't the case for Jordan.
“It’s not fair!” Jordan shook her head as the tears cascaded down her face. Not a complaint so much as a lament or even an appeal to fate or deity over what was beginning to look like the irretrievable loss of a dream. She looked down at her lap before biting her lip. It wasn’t so much that she hated what she still had; she didn’t despise her male form but instead feared that she would never obtain the form she wished would prove once and for all to her father….justifying what needed no defense.
“We all want to see you safe, honey.” Nancy was as tenderhearted and marginally unethical to some as they come. She stepped around from her desk and knelt down in front of Jordan and Paula. Holistic to her meant a lot more than some in her profession. She gently placed her hand on the girl’s knee and tilted her head in request. Jordan’s head was down, so Paula nodded on both of their behalf.
“God… please keep Jordan safe and help her get better. Give me the wisdom to treat her in the best manner possible and give her and Paula and Rachael peace.” She paused and looked at the empty chair next to Rachael.
“And please help Daniel see what a precious child he has?” She shook her head at the mention of the girl’s father; even the most powerful and wisest of deities would find convincing a man filled with stubborn pride and ignorance a daunting challenge.
At home, a few months later...
Rachael sat down and hugged Jordan quickly, as if a lingering embrace would hurt the girl sitting on the couch beside her. Too much worry and not enough faith, she felt, but the girl was fragile and struggling to keep from crying as it was. You know the feeling that you can hold it together until someone puts a hand on a shoulder; the shrug that says, if you keep it up, I’ll have no choice but to feel safe enough to fall apart. Rachael was mostly right in her assessment; the girl was very fragile, but she broke off the embrace too slow to keep the girl from sobbing anyway.
“Jordan? Honey? Please….let me…” She went to pull the girl closer, but was met with another shrug and hands that extended to hers, shaking and pushing her away.
“No…leave me….you can’t help…no one can.” The girl cried, leaving Rachael feeling helpless but still undaunted. She pushed the girl’s arms apart and pulled her close. Jordan flailed a bit before giving in entirely as she wept into her big sister’s shoulder. Rachael stroked Jordan’s hair and kissed her cheek.
“I’m so, so sorry, honey. We’ll find a way…really.” Rachael really wanted to believe that, but even she felt discouraged, and rightfully so. Some things can take more time than we like. And some things can take more time than we can afford. But in this case, it was going to take more time than Jordan had, since every test and exam and estimation and reluctant assessment said that Jordan would remain sadly unfulfilled in her quest to gain that final aspect of her transition before she succumbed to the disease that ravaged her body
A chance meeting at the supermarket parking lot sometime later...
“Daniel…” Paula wanted to be cold and aloof; her need to be angry seemed to fail her, and all she felt for her husband at that point was a vague recollection of love mixed with pity. He smiled weakly.
“How are you?” A nice enough request; it seemed so incomplete since it hadn’t been just the two of them for over twenty years.
“I’m tired, but I’m doing okay.” She was going to add an abrupt lecture about his children when Daniel surprised her.
“I…I’m sorry.” Simple enough, but profound since Daniel had hardly ever apologized. He put his head down and shook it; a self-recrimination long overdue and not a moment too soon. Paula wanted to rush to his side and hold him, but while old habits do die hard, they still expire without practice and careful tending. She resisted the urge to move as he stepped closer.
“I’ve…I’ve resigned as care pastor.” He looked at her for a response. She squinted; looking for some ulterior motive. She thought of several but missed the one he held.
“I was wrong in so many ways. I hurt you. I hurt Rachael. I hurt Jordan.”
“What does that mean, Dan…. How did you hurt your children?” She wanted to say ‘daughters,’ but better to let him omit that and then correct his misperception once again. She bit her lip at her lack of faith and spoke softly.
“I’m sorry, Dan. Go on…”
“I don’t pretend to understand all of it; how it all fits together or doesn’t at all.” He looked around nervously; it wasn’t something he was used to — admitting a weakness. She gazed at him with her arms folded; a need to be convinced even as she still wanted to believe he had changed.
“All I know is that I love you and them and I am so sorry I haven’t…. I haven’t been Christ-like. I don’t deserve to….no…that’s not what I want to say.” He shook his head, almost furiously as he pounded his hip with a closed fist in frustration. Paula unfolded her arms, but didn’t have any idea what to do next. It came to her on impulse, and she stepped closer and grabbed his hands; holding him at arms’ distance.
“I remember when I held Rachael for the first time. She was just so beautiful. And Jordan. What changed to make them less….it wasn’t them.” He blinked back tears. It had to be all about Paula and Rachael and Jordan.
“I have a wonderful…I had a wonderful wife and two beautiful children. I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize how much more important you and they are than what I believe…..what I believed.” He paused and she went to interject but he squeezed her right hand gently and smiled while shaking his head. She held off, and he continued.
“I’ve prayed about it, and I spent some time counseling with the pastor from Rachael’s church. I don’t know what I believe, but I still believe with all my heart that God loves us and that has to be the most important part of my faith.” He tilted his head and she squinted in anticipation.
“What are you asking, Dan?” She wanted to kiss him right then and there, but even that would be short-circuiting the process. And she was more than a bit premature anyway.
“All I’m asking is for you to forgive me.” He paused and sighed.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me on their behalf. That’s my responsibility, and I had to let them know how sorry I am for their sake, no matter what happens. I saw Rachael the other evening...” Volumes of Italian expressions flashed in Paula’s head as she searched for just the right words. In the end, she settled on her native tongue.
“Thank you, Dan…. I….I forgive you.” She put her hand to her face and began to cry; some tears fell from sheer exhaustion and frustation over the loss of so much valuable time; he didn’t know, and wouldn’t unless Jordan told him. Some tears fell from the relief of knowing things had indeed changed in his heart; everything he said rang true.
And some tears fell from the love she had never lost for her best friend ever. She shook a bit as he stepped closer and held her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her, but that would be for another time, if at all. That she forgave him and that there stood no barrier between them was more than enough. He squeezed her shoulder with his left hand; a long-abandoned gesture that sought and received welcome as Paula wept in his embrace.
A few days later...at home...
“Can I come in?” The voice was too familiar and altogether unwelcome and at the same time desperately needed. Jordan looked up to see her father standing in the door way. She shrugged her shoulders. Rachael was sitting in the futon across from Jordan's bed. She got up and walked out of the room, but not before touching her father's shoulder gently and smiling. He turned to face Jordan.
“I…” He began to choke up; it was hard to see him…hard to see her, he reminded himself, looking so frail.
“Dad?” Jordan looked at him and smiled weakly; it was something she had anticipated even before her mother told her. She nodded and pointed to the chair next to her bed. He sat down but looked away in shame; how much time had been lost foolishly.
“I….” He struggled with the same word; wanting so badly to make amends that were not possible. He began to cry softly and wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. It was the first time in a long time that Jordan had seen her father cry. She reached over and touched his arm softly.
“Daddy?” Something she hadn’t said in years. He turned and saw that she was smiling through her own tears.
“I forgive you.” He shook his head; in denial and wonder and utter gratitude. She touched his arm once again and he pulled her hand to his face and kissed it before disolving in a sea of tears; the same ocean of loss and regret transformed into renewal as they both wept together; father and daughter united for the first time. A few minutes later she looked up and noticed that he held a book-shaped object wrapped in paper decorated with bunnies and ducklings of all things. She squinted and looked a bit askance.
“Oh…this is for you.” He held it, looking down as if to pray that it would mean as much to her as it did to him. He handed it to her and nodded. She pulled off the paper; revealing a pink background with the words “Our Little Girl” written diagonally across the cover. It was similar to one she had held countless times; going from birth to five. She looked at it and tilted her head and he nodded once again, using his hand to gesture for her to open it. Each new page held something old and familiar, but in a completely and wonderfully different context. Dan had taken all of the pictures from Jordan’s old baby book and inserted them into the new one; no difference in the photographs, but new captions. Each entry used the words ‘she,’ and ‘her;’ where before the captions spoke of the baby boy that Paula and Daniel had brought into the world, instead it was all about their little girl.
Where once the tableau of their younger child’s life spoke of the son and brother, now each picture was described by ‘daughter’ and ‘sister.’ Nothing new as far as the pictures were concerned other than the inclusion of one photo Dan had managed to come across when he compiled the new album. A picture never before displayed took a place of prominence on the very last page. Two little girls sitting on a pony at a town carnival; not their town, of course, but someplace where no one knew the two of them save for their mother. Rachael and Jordan smiling at the camera; a picture that Dan had hated the first time he saw it and now a picture that was a reminder of the blessing of God. Two little girls that he finally came to accept.
“Is it too late?”
He struggled to get the words out. She looked at him with a tearful smile and shook her head no. Jordan looked at her father and sighed; frustration and sadness would never go away for either of the nor for Paula and Rachael since in some ways it was too late. But along with the loss would come a redemption of sorts; a requiem of the heart for dear ones who realized life and God and family lie not in what they do or even what they are, but whom they are. That in the ways that truly matter, it's never too late.
