The Smile

“This always happens,” her thoughts fumed as she walked away, confused, from the conversation, “I go talk to someone, try and clear my mind, figure some things out, and I just come away feeling muddier and dirtier than when I started.” Penni decided she wouldn’t talk about these things any more. Not with anyone, not at anytime. Life will be better and less complicated that way.

That was five years ago, and it was working just fine until two days ago. Don is 68 years old and mostly blind. Penni has a job caring for him in his home. Actually, she cares for several different people, but Don is her favourite. Penni always arranges her day to see him last so she can spend all of her remaining time listening to him and talking with him.

On the surface, it was just a normal question, “Has something been bothering you?”

“Why, what makes you ask that?” She wasn’t thinking about the personal vow she’s made five years ago, but a vaguely familiar panic began to rise up from the inner reaches of her body.

“I don’t know. It just seems that something’s bothering you.”

There was a pause and then a growing heaviness in the air.

There it was again, that muddy and dirty feeling. She hadn’t felt it for a long time, but it’s always been close at hand – too close.

“I’m sorry,” he broke into her thoughts, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh, nonsense,” she said bluffing for time and realising the decision was once again demanding to be made all over again. ‘Do I talk about it again, or not?’ The powerful urge to purge her being of this dirtiness, this knowledge, this millstone almost overwhelmed her. But there were huge consequences.

She thought to herself, “If this doesn’t go well...” and then her whole inner being shuddered. She knew he couldn’t see her because of his blindness, but she hoped he couldn’t sense her shuddering because to her the whole room seemed to rattle.

She decided to take a risk, “Well, yes there is, but I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry.” Later, when she was home mulling it over in her mind, she wanted to have added, “Thanks for asking, though.” She didn’t say that, but it was how she felt. As much as it confused her, she was glad he asked. But that didn’t help her decide what to do though.

She tried to sleep that night, but when she woke up she felt like she’d been tied to a rally car and dragged around the circuit a couple of times. This just confirmed what she’d always feared – no, what she always knew – people could tell just by looking at her or listening to her that there was something terribly wrong with her. If they only knew what it was, they would never speak to her again. They’d pull their children in close and walk quickly by and leave her all alone.

Being abandoned like that would be even worse than what had happened. She was afraid to go back and care for Don the next day, but she did. She was really scared the whole time she was with him. She didn’t stay to talk like she normally did. She got his meal and cleaned up and left. She didn’t say much more than ten words to him the whole time though, Don seemed to continue to talk to her as if nothing was different.

“How could he do that?” she wondered driving away. She wasn’t burning inside like she was yesterday, but she was just as confused. “How could he just talk as if everything were normal?” It didn’t make sense to Penni that he could go on as if yesterday had never happened, pretending to still like her when it was obvious that he knew the truth about her now. She wondered if he was just biding his time because he had called and asked for his carer to be changed and he’s just being nice until I’m replaced.

When Penni went to Don’s house the next day she was shaking. She prepared his meal and served it to him and started off to clean up.

“Penni, will you sit with me for a moment?” Don asked. Penni was confused. She knew the terror in her mind but she also knew that the kindness in his voice was genuine.

“Sure,” she said and sat down.

“Listen, I’m sorry I said anything to you the other day. I didn’t mean to upset you.

“I’m worried now that you’re upset with me. I have really enjoyed being with you and I’m worried that you’re upset and will ask for someone else to take care of me, and I would really miss you.”

Penni struggled to comprehend what he said. Did he really say he was afraid she would leave him? That just didn’t make sense, surely he was going to ask that she be replaced.

Something changed in Penni at that moment. She wasn’t exactly sure, like a small bird flying out of the hedge, you see it, but you really aren’t conscious of it. Whatever it was, it was better now. She stopped trembling. She didn’t realise that her breathing had become so tight until she felt it relax.

Then, somewhere deep inside, she started to smile. By the time it reached her face, her transformation was complete, and this time Don could tell something was happening and Penni saw her own smile mirrored in Don’s face.

They never talked again about what it was that was troubling her. Don didn’t want to take the chance and Penni wasn’t troubled any more. They enjoyed four more years of genuine friendship as Penni continued to care for Don.

In the Autumn, the year Don was 72, the weather turned cold and rainy. He developed a cold. Penni eventually took him to the doctor. The doctor sent him to the hospital. She continued to visit him every day, only now it was at the hospital and she could just sit with him.

It was hard for Penni to watch him slowly deteriorate. He had pneumonia. He died after just two and a half weeks in the hospital. She found out he died when she went in to visit him. As she turned to walk out of the hospital tears formed in her eyes and began to roll down her face. She was intensely sad. But in the very centre of her being, underneath the tears, was a smile.

Penni loved Don and she would miss him, but she knew that the smile would always remind her of him and his gift of friendship and of healing.