Autumn

41: Why Helen's heroic

Theodore wondered if falling in love got any easier.

He was curled up on the couch. The house was cold. Heating was expensive and he knew that Helen couldn't afford it sometimes. Bills were a constant and Theodore's casual supermarket job could hardly contribute towards helping.

"What are you watching there?" he heard Helen ask. The couch dipped by his head as she sunk down next to him.

"TV." Theodore's voice was void of emotion and even he flinched at how monotone it sounded. His tone gave the icy air a run for its money.

"Good show?" she prompted.

He let out a weak noise as agreement, but it just sounded like a small animal being tortured. Theodore's grief was exhausting and he was getting impatient. When would it stop hurting? When will he stop feeling so helpless? Why wasn't it getting easier?

"The television is off, my love," Helen said gently as she rested her warm hand against his shoulder.

Theodore had been staring at the screen for a long time, but he hadn't actually been focusing on what was happening. When Helen's words registered, he realised she was right. He wasn't sure how long he had been there for.

"How about some dinner?"

"Dinner would be nice." He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.

Helen stood and disappeared into the kitchen. Theodore remained unmoving on the couch until she returned with two pints of ice-cream and two giant spoons. They looked like miniature shovels. Helen opened one up and handed it to Theodore.

Mint chocolate chip.

His favourite.

Together they ate their ice-cream. Helen told Theodore about all the patients she had at work. She told stories of an old woman whose elderly husband buys her fresh yellow flowers every day because he knows the colour makes her happy. Since he cannot drive, he takes the bus and walks the remaining distance. The trip makes him tired, but he always glows when he sees his wife smile and tell him yellow is her favourite colour because that was what he wore on their first date.

Helen told him about the single father who was hospitalised after trying to save a neighbour from a house fire. His only son is only five, but he visits with his grandmother every day after preschool. He brings a toy each time and leaves it behind with his dad. They protect him from any further harm.

And although he wasn't a patient, Helen spoke about the driven, middle-aged co-worker who didn't speak much English, but had no troubles expressing his love for his wife and three daughters who were in Singapore. He had been working overseas for three years straight to help support his family and dreamed of seeing them again soon once he saved up enough money. Helen would always eat her lunch with him. She would go to markets and buy fresh fruits and breads for them to share because she knew he ate microwaveable meals each day to save money.

Theodore listened, grateful to focus on something other than his own thoughts.

"Love is such a powerful feeling," she said, wrapping up her story about her co-worker.

"It's a painful feeling," Theodore whispered. "It hurts too much."

"Oh, Theodore," Helen said. She gently lifted his head and placed it on her lap, running her fingers through his hair. "Love is beautiful. It takes a lot of courage to love, but it is the most rewarding risk anyone can take."

"Then why do I feel so empty?" He sounded so small.

"Because when we love, we do it intensely and wholeheartedly. And when it's gone, we feel like everything has been taken away. But that's not true. Hearts are like passports. Every person who makes an impact leaves an imprint, and even though they might leave, it's always possible to revisit."

Theodore hadn't realised he had started to cry until Helen bundled him in her arms. She combed his hair and kissed his forehead and loved him silently. And when he had settled enough to fall asleep, she reached over and grabbed the blanket hanging over the armrest and wrapped it up around him.

They stayed together like that until morning.

"I love you, Theodore," she said without words.

"I love you too, Mum," he answered without speaking.

Helen was right. Love is beautiful.