Moving Forward in Reverse Read Free Page A

solace
to my family. It was infuriating! I wanted to bite down on the damn tube
obtruding on my throat. To grind it to tiny, unidentifiable fragments for
making me so powerless.
    My frustration must have been
evident in my eyes because as I was turning my gaze towards the ceiling in
aggravation, Jim sputtered from my left.
    ‘You’re not looking so good.’
When I swung my eyes to look at him Nancy was frowning with disapproval. I
could tell by the self-satisfied expression on his face that his smart-ass
comment had been a calculated move, intended to lighten my mood and bridge the
chasm between us all. And it had.
    My anger slackened as my eyes
creased in good humor and my lips strained against the mouth guard securing the
intubation tube in an attempt to grin. Still look better than you, old man, I
mentally quipped as I sent out a silent thank you to the brother-in-law who
always had my back. It still stung that someone else had to fill my role in the
family, but at least I had people I could rely on to do so.
    Postures slackened. My mom
frowned across the bed at Jim but there was a smile lighting her eyes. Don just
grinned and Nancy caught on when she met my eyes and saw gratitude in place of
hurt. The air lost its stifling weight as everyone began to breathe easier.
They were no longer standing by my death bed, ready to say their good-byes, and
yet it wasn’t easy to relinquish the sense of impending loss that seemed to
fill the room. Perhaps they are still grieving – not for my death but for what
I had to give up to get here.
    Nancy leaned in to kiss my
left cheek, straightening up with her signature big-sister smile: compassion,
protectiveness, and authoritative disapproval of a little brother who just
can’t get anything right all wrapped into a doting package. I loved that smile.
Mom just stood where she was for a while, staring at me as she fought a
precarious battle against the onslaught of tears brimming in her eyes. The
weeks had worn on her, of this I was sure. I would have given anything for the
ability to reassure her in that moment. But gagged and paralyzed, I could only
stare back at her, hoping my eyes could convey even a fraction of what I longed
to say.
    Don’t cry, Mom. I’m alive!
See? I’ll be fine. Please don’t hurt any more.
    ‘We, uh, ran into Lindy on
the way in,’ Don said, drawing everyone’s attention from the pains and sorrows
of yesterday back to the new prospects of today. ‘You met Lindy, right? I think
she said she was in here when you woke up.’ He glanced at my mom. She dipped her
chin once in a hitched nod of confirmation.
    ‘She said that tube in your
throat’s going to come out tomorrow,’ Don continued. ‘Sometime in the morning.’
    As if on cue, the nurse from
earlier stepped into the room. I watched her move to the end of my bed, smiling
– a bona fide smile with creased cheeks and dancing eyes – at the people
clustered around me. Never had I felt such relief at seeing an honestly upbeat
expression. I could have sworn even the machines lessened their grating peals
at her presence.
    So this was Lindy.
    Motion from my right drew my
attention briefly and I glanced over in time to see my mom slinking out of my
line of vision with one hand raised to her face. Perfect timing, Lindy.
    ‘How’re we all doing in
here?’ Lindy asked in a slight Southern drawl. And after a short-lived round of
good’s and fine-thank-you’s, added, ‘You look like a man who is well-loved,
Scott.’ Three sets of eyes returned to me, their expressions palpable
verification for Lindy’s statement.
    ‘Did you hear that the key to
pulling Scott out of the coma was a bunch of lanky women in bikinis?’ Lindy
proffered.
    What?
    ‘It’s true,’ she added when
four quizzical faces and one set of narrowed, skeptical eyes turned in her
direction. ‘I had ESPN on, as always, and they were airing a women’s beach
volleyball tournament. I think I even said something to Scott about how he