I leaned back restlessly in the oversized lounge chair on the upper deck of our beach house in Hawaii, sighing heavily as I closed my eyes in attempt to escape my surroundings. But try though I might there was no escape. The sound of the waves crashing on the shoreline below, the warmth of the Hawaiian sunshine glowing on my face and the cool morning breeze that blew gently over my body reminded me that I was indeed in this place once more.

But I love it here, so escaping may not really be what I wanted in my heart to do.

I loved the way it made me feel to sit out on the deck and watch the sun rise on one side of the house in the mornings and set out over the ocean in the evenings. I loved all the sweet and beautiful memories that Hawaii brought back to me over and over, again and again, every single time I ventured to this place... and to that place in my mind.

But today the memories seemed more bitter than bittersweet.

I stared down at the paper in my lap and the pen in my shaking hand. There were so many words there that I didn't understand and that honestly, for the most part, I didn't care to try. All I needed to know was clear and would be clear to anyone who might happen upon those papers, etched forever in the form of two small lines at the bottom of a confusing novel of details... the details of our marriage brought down to the end. Two simple lines that we were to "sign below". And of course the glaring title at the top of the page... "Nikolas Gene Carter and Kathryn Grace Carter - Petition for Divorce in the state of Kentucky".

Yes, just that simple, "Sign here", as if doing so would really allow us to let everything go and be done with it. As if two signatures on a piece of paper could take away years of memories and what felt, to me at least, like a lifetime - incredible and meaningful - and make destroying it completely and utterly painless.

I stared at his signature there at the bottom of the paper and wondered if any of this was as painful for Nick as it was for me. If any of this meant as much, or hurt as much, or was killing him as much as it felt like it was killing me... because it definitely felt like it was killing me.

How had he so easily signed that paper when all I could do was sit there and stare at the blank line above my name and try my best not to fall apart even more. How had he so easily been willing to throw everything away?

Try though I may I couldn't help thinking back on the years of our lives together. About all of the fun we'd had and all of the love we'd shared and it made me wonder, silently and agonizingly, just how in the hell we'd gotten to this point in the first place. How even after everything we'd been through - the loss, the pain, the sickness, the suffering and most of all the overwhelming love, how we'd come to a point where we were both willing to forget all that and essentially say screw this to our marriage. Screw this, to us.

I closed my eyes again, thinking back on the past ten years of our lives, back to the beginning of our relationship when we were young and naive and stupidly, blissfully unaware. We wanted and were willing to spend every waking moment together, and we would have done just that at the time if it hadn't been for his touring and my education. But it brought us even closer together, that time apart. During those long months we he was gone and was stuck at school I would spend hours in my dorm room, between studying of course, writing in my journal about much I missed him and loved him and how I was so incredibly positive I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving only him.

I thought of that summer in Hawaii, the first of many... the love we'd shared, and the memories we'd made and that one glorious night when he proposed to me beneath the moonlit sky as the waves crashed at our feet and the air chilled our bodies and he'd carried me back to this very house where we'd made love together, creating a baby and solidifying our entire relationship in one small moment that surpassed any expectations I ever could have had.

And then there were of course the horrible memories of only a few days later... the experience in that hotel room, and the painful flight home after for all of us. The agonzing weeks that followed and led to more agonizing months... years. A cancer diagnosis. The loss of our child. Treatments... pain... a death sentence that I miraculously beat. For one brief moment in the mix of it all I remembered thinking there would be no way Nick would stay with me, but he'd proved me wrong time and time and time again.

And then, there was our marriage, on this very beach at this very spot, on this very day 8 years ago... when we vowed to love each other for better or worse, in sickness and health, til death do us part. And we'd thought of course at the time that the death part would happen within months, but those months by miracle turned to years and in those years we built a family...

So how now, after all of that could we really be considering throwing it all away?

The sound of my daughter's squeals of delight echoing from the beach below jolted me back to reality. I stood and walked to the edge of the balcony, glancing over the side as a genuine smile lit my face at the sight of my precious girl running barefoot along the sand, her father trailing quickly behind her. When he caught up to her he lifted her gently, tossing her in the air before setting her back down again and laughing as she took off at a run. They were returning together from their routine morning walk along the coast. Nick in his swimming trunks, our tiny Mia bean in her sundress and sunglasses, one of her daddy's baseball caps askew on her head. She stopped for a moment to pick up a shell and the hat fell from her head. I sighed at the way the sunlight bounced from her shinning black hair and bounced onto the smiling face of the proudest father in the world.

I remembered the days before Mia arrived, back when it was just the two of us. I remembered how we'd walk together along the beach and talk about how much we wished we could bring a child into the world together. How much we wanted to be parents and how unfair we felt it was that with everything we'd already been through, the dream of being parents was just one more thing we'd had yanked from beneath our feet.

And then Mia Elizabeth Carter entered our world... at 6 months of age weighing in at 10 lbs. 6 ounces, our little bundle of giggling happiness arrived and changed our lives. With Mia, two became three and it was no longer just Nick and Grace Carter, it was Mia's mommy and daddy and wherever we went, she was never far.

It seemed strange to even think about going back to two. I liked being Nick's wife and Mia's mommy. I like being a family.

I watched as Nick lifted Mia in the air once more, tossing her over his shoulder and tickling her toes as he pretended to dip the top of her head in the water. She squealed and laughed so hard that Nick could barely stop laughing himself, and I couldn't help but laugh along with them. I couldn't have asked for a better father for my daughter. Nick was nothing if not absolutely amazing with Mia and Mia adored her daddy. It's funny to think back on the times when having a child seemed an absolute impossibility, and then to the struggle we'd had with whether adoption was the right choice for us... with whether we'd be able to love an adopted child like our own. Now, here we were and here she was and it didn't matter at all how she'd arrived in our life there was no doubt she was 100 percent ours.

I sighed deeply as I watched the two of them continue up the beach in the other direction. I resumed my spot in the lounge chair and sighed as Kahlua, my incredibly loving Great Dane, stirred momentarily when I scratched his head before resuming his soft snoring from his spot beside me on the floor. I thought back to the day I received Kahlua from Nick. My 26th birthday, only months before our wedding and following one of my rougher chemotherapy treatments. Kahlua had quickly become my partner in crime and my constant companion through years of cancer treatments and now, as he lay there quietly dozing, his soft head resting on my feet, he seemed to know I needed him now more than ever.

I set the paper and pen on the table beside me, unsigned for the moment and leaned back in my chair. It could wait a little longer.

I wasn't ready yet.

I wondered if I ever would be.

Nick couldn't help but smile at the sight of his 2 1/2-year-old daughter dancing merrily along in the sand in front of him. This had become their routine over the past week; a morning walk during which he would follow along like an obedient puppy who'd go anywhere in the world his little girl's heart desired. And truth be told, he'd do just that.

He glanced up just in time to see her turn around and smile. Her smile took his breath away and made him smile in return. His heart felt happy each time he could see her happy. Nick never imagined it would possible to love another human being the way he loved his little girl. To love so much it hurt, he'd felt... but to love so much he'd gladly give his own life it it meant he knew she'd be happy forever... it was a totally surreal experience.

"Daddy!" Mia shouted in a voice that wasn't quite right and made Nick's heart skip a beat as he jogged to catch up to where she was stooping in the sand a few yards ahead of him.

"What is it bean?" he asked as he bent down, noticing for the first time that she was poking at something with her little plastic shovel, "Oh..." he saw immediately that it was a fish, obviously washed up during high tide, and obviously no longer alive.

"Put him back in 'da water daddy!" she pled as small tears glistened in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

Nick looked at his daughter in disbelief. When exactly had she gone from being a baby to being a tiny person? How did she comprehend that the fish being out of the water was a bad thing, and could he not just go ahead and buy back her innocence now? Because he would if he could. He quickly took the shovel from her hand and scooped the fish back into the water where it was washed along the beach as the waves carried it silently back out into the depths of the ocean. A proper burial at least. And then he turned back to where Mia stood, sniffling as she looked at him expectantly.

"He be okay daddy?" She asked, concern evident in her tiny voice and Nick couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed when he lied and answered, "yes."

More because he knew it wasn't the first time he'd lied to his daughter, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. But then, part of parenthood is knowing that sometimes you have to lie to your children to protect them from the truth. He didn't want to be the kind of father though, whose lies affected his daughter so deeply that she resented him later in life and he silently wondered if years from now she would remember how he'd scooped the dead fish into the ocean and flung him back into the water and told her he'd be okay... when he knew it wasn't the truth.

He wondered this like he wondered if she would remember all the nights when he'd told her mommy would be okay, even though she cried so much Nick couldn't even convince himself she'd ever be okay again. He wondered if she would remember how mommy and daddy would get mad at each other and even though it was obvious they were mad, daddy would lie and tell her they were just playing a game when she asked, "Why yellin daddy?"

Nick cradled Mia in his arms, pulling her tightly to his chest as the two of them walked back towards the beach house together. He looked up towards the deck as they walked along, the sand buring his toes as afternoon approached and the morning sun grewer hotter in the sky. She was there... Grace... in that same spot she'd been in for days, Kahlua curled up beside her. He hated what their lives had become. He hated the thought that their marriage was falling apart.

For Nick, signing the papers had been by far the hardest thing he'd ever had to do... harder even than planning for her funeral when the doctors had been sure that her time was growing short. Signing those papers was like saying he no longer loved his wife, and that, he knew was the biggest lie of all.

Nick shut the door softly behind him, pausing for a moment as he leaned heavily against the wall beside the door. He knew he could watch his little girl forever and she would never look more innocent or more beautiful to him than when she slept. In fact, he truly believed that she could grow to be a 16-year-old wild child, dating crazy boys and getting into all sorts of trouble, and despite all that she would still look just as innocent when she slept as the day she came into their lives.

He also knew that years from now he would still take the time to give her a kiss goodnight, to tell her he loved her and then, he would pause in her doorway after she'd drifted off into her dreams and watch her sleep for a few peaceful moments. And he promised himself that he would be just as eternally grateful for her years from now as he was today.

It was difficult to believe there had actually been a time when Nick had worried he would be unable to truly love an adopted child as much as he might love a biological one. Now though, looking back, it seemed foolish to think those thoughts had even crossed his mind. Now he couldn't imagine loving any child more, or even as much as he loved Mia. Granted he didn't have another child to compare the love, biological or otherwise, but he was certain his heart was made for this girl alone, and he was amazed every single day how infinitely his heart expanded to fill with more love for his daughter with each passing moment.

He turned from the doorway, knowing that in a few short hours he would return to cuddle in beside his sleeping princess for the night, where he would spend the next however many hours being beaten and battered by her tiny two-year-old limbs. He would only just get comfortable before she would roll into him, sticking her toes between his ribs or her elbows into his eye sockets. Somehow her fingers always found their way into the depths of his ears or his nostrils, and more often than not she would eventually wind up completely on top of him, a sweaty mess of drool and hair. And he loved every single minute of it.

It's funny how you can love someone so much that all of their annoying little habits don't even bother you anymore. Funny that you can love someone so much that they can drool on you, or wipe their snot on you, or God forbid, even puke on you, and you just don't care because love overshadows it all.

Nick sighed as he walked past the doorway to the room where Gracie was sleeping. He remembered how their love was like that once upon a time, not so very long ago. She had loved to torture him with her icy cold feet in the middle of the night, always finding his most sensitive spots and curling her toes right into them, just waiting for him to squeal and fly out of bed. But he wouldn't. He'd roll over instead and pull her closer to him, wrapping her feet between his legs to keep them warm. They used to lay like that all night long, Nick trying to sleep while Grace snored and snorted and talked in her sleep... but Nick didn't care. He would lie awake sometimes and watch her sleep, just like he did with Mia, especially on those long nights when she'd been so sick he worried what might happen if he took his eyes away for a minute. She was always most beautiful to him when she slept. Always so peaceful and carefree... happier... healthier.

And all those months of treatments that caused her to lose her hair, and sweat profusely and vomit more than anyone he'd ever met... even a few times on him... it never bothered him too much, because the love he felt for her and the need to care for her overshadowed it all. He found within himself the strength to love immensely even in the darkest moments.

Nick stopped short of the stairway, turning around quickly and heading back towards Grace's door. He cracked it open and peeked inside, taking in the sight of her figure curled up in a heap on the bed, blankets piled on top of her, her long blond hair hanging carelessly over the side of the bed and her toes stuck carelessly from beneath the blankets. He thought of all the nights in this very house when the two of them had laid together in that bed, beneath those blankets and talked for hours, about their lives... their futures. He couldn't believe they were on the verge of throwing it all away. It felt like some horrible nightmare you can't wake up from... like standing on the edge of a mountain prepared to jump off the side without a parachute.

He stood in the doorway for a few more moments before shutting the door once more. He wiped the falling tears from his eyes and turned quickly away, walking down the stairs and out of the house to the beach. Tonight was a good night for a walk and it was a good thing because Nick needed to get away for a little while from it all.

I laid in the bed, hot and sweaty beneath the covers and yet, amazingly not uncomfortable. I think I'd grown numb to things like that. It was as if those years of excruciating pain and illness had made the little discomforts in life completely fade away... or at least seem pretty insignificant.

I stared at the wall for a long, long time. There was a crack there, to the left of the window that I'd slid open just enough to allow the sea breeze to blow in, and the curtains to shimmer in the moonlight of the falling Hawaiian night. I wondered silently if there was some way to stare at that crack long enough that it would open up wide and swallow me whole. Then I wouldn't have to worry about life anymore. I wouldn't have to worry about things like cancer and relapse and dying. I wouldn't have to worry about leaving behind my husband or my daughter. I wouldn't have to worry about arguments -- significant or insignificant. Worth having or completely pointless. I wouldn't have to worry about the divorce papers, sitting on the bedside table, tucked neatly beneath my favorite picture of my family -- still unsigned.

The day had gone by too quickly, like most days on the beach do. I'd spent the majority of my time in the lounge chair on the deck, pouring over the words on those papers and thinking, just thinking about all the things I'd done to deserve the course my life was taking. I'd watched Nick and Mia for a long time as they played together on the beach and swam in the ocean. If there was one thing in the world I would never tire of, it was watching the two of them together. Then Nick had gone out for a little while and I had spent the afternoon the same way I spent most of my afternoons these days; bathing my daughter and fixing her lunch, reading her stories and getting her down for her nap. Then we'd gone out together for ice cream... Nick's idea, for Mia. He asked if I wanted to come along and I couldn't say no when her little voice called out for me from the backseat of the car. The two of us sat in silence though, in the middle of the local ice cream parlor as our toddler animatedly described her daily adventures, The customers around us laughed at her descriptions of the "sand trab" and the "tarfish" and I smiled on adoringly as she talked about how her daddy saved a fishy... but of course it couldn't mask the sadness that surrounded us. The silence overwhelming and the awkwardness evident... at least to the two of us.

I took my eyes away from the crack on the wall for a few moments and focused them onto the photo on the nightstand. There we were; Nick and Mia and myself. We were sitting on the porch of this very house, Mia in Nick's lap and his arms around me and we were smiling... we were smiling.

I remembered the day the photo was taken as if it'd only been a minute ago. It had been a year though... on our last family vacation with my mom and dad and Brian and Leighanne and Baylee. An entire year ago.

So much could happen in a year.

I sat up on the bed and lifted the picture from it's place on the nightstand. I gently ran my fingers over the faces of my daughter and my husband. The thought that he would soon be my ex-husband was a reality I was not prepared to face. I lifted the divorce papers up once more, pen in my hand, poised and ready to sign. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. I couldn't throw it all away, knowing that it was my fault and mine alone. Knowing I was the one who needed the help... that I was the one who could make things right again. I stared at the picture one last time. I owed it to him... I owed it to her. I owed it to both of them, and to myself to try and make things right.

Suddenly the hot, sticky discomfort of the bedroom that hadn't seemed so bad before, now seemed completely overwhelming. I needed to get out of there for a little while. I needed some fresh air... a walk on the beach. I stood and slipped quietly from the room, hoping I wouldn't disturb Nick and Mia on my way out. I opened the door and walked out onto the porch, facing the beach and watching as the waves rolled in from a distant somewhere.

I took in a deep breath when I saw him sitting there on the steps, his sillouette muscular and beautiful in the moonlight. He was leaning there, his chin resting in his hands, his back towards me, staring out at the water.

"Hi..." I whispered as he turned around, realizing for the first time that I was there.

"Hey..." He looked surprised, but scooted quickly over and motioned for me to sit down beside him. I did so and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards him quickly and easily exactly as if it were something he expected to do for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" he asked, looking back out towards where the waves were crashing on the horizon.

Okay? Was there a definition for that word? What exactly did it mean to be okay? I certainly didn't feel okay... I hadn't felt okay in a long, long time.

"No, I'm not okay," I thought to myself... but instead of answering I just leaned into him more, resting my head against his shoulder and staring out at the same horizon, watching the same waves... wondering where they'd come from... and wondering where they were headed.

He stared out at the ocean beyond the dunes, watching as the waves rushed rapidly upon the beach in the distance, crashing with the kind of power that makes your heart beat faster and yet, makes you feel unbelievably calm at the same time. They'd been sitting in that same position -- his arm wrapped around her waist and her head leaning carelessly against his shoulder -- for over an hour. He wondered if maybe he should be the one to pull away from the comfort to go in and check on Mia... but no. He was sure she was fine and besides, her window was open... right above where they were sitting, they would certainly hear if she cried out for one of them in the night.

He felt good there, good with her in his arms. It felt right. Comfortable. The way it always had from the very first time he'd held her all those years ago and known for sure that she was the one person in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving.

Even the silence was comfortable. It was awkward at first. Awkward how they sat there for long minutes at a time and said nothing at all. But with her head on his shoulder and her hand resting against his knee, his hand tucked between her legs, their feet tangled together at the bottom of the stairs, even the silence had grown comforting. Maybe this was how things were supposed to be when the world got too tough.

He sighed, watching as a couple walked by on the beach, hand in hand, giggling. The guy stopped for a moment, leaning down quickly to kiss the girl on the lips, she kissed him back for a few more moments and they continued on their way... happy, comfortable... in love.

No. That was how things were supposed to be.

He stared down at her there in his arms and silently wondered exactly when their lives had changed. When had things gotten so bad that they couldn't even talk to each other?

A year ago life was wonderful.

Nine months ago, things began to fall apart.

And today. Today they were spending the final day of their family vacation sitting on the steps of the beach house together, their divorce papers upstairs on the desk in the bedroom, not talking to each other at all.

He felt her shiver slightly at his side and he pulled her closer to him, wrapping her more tightly in his arms to try and keep her warm. Despite everything they were going through... despite it all... he still loved her. He'd signed the papers for her. He'd signed the papers because it was the only thing he knew to do. It was the only way he could think to possibly help her get better. Whatever she wanted right now... he'd give her.

Whatever.

He looked down at her again, her eyes closed, her face pale, her lips bright red in the light from the doorway. He wanted to kiss her then... to hold her tight and never let her go. He wanted to make love to her... but he knew, deep inside that doing any of those things right then would be insane.

Insane... just like she was.

'Insane.'

He hated that word. He hated all of those words -- insane, crazy, manic, depressed. He hated those labels... those definitions for conditions his wife may possibly have. Especially since he didn't believe it. Didn't believe his wife had anything but a hard time dealing with all the shit she'd been through in her life. All the crap he'd take away if he only had the power.

But she wasn't insane.

'Lost' was a good word... a better word. He liked to believe his wife was just lost. 'Lost', he thought as he stared into his wife's saddened eyes... if Gracie was just lost then there was always a chance that he could find her somewhere deep down inside herself, and then... then he could bring her back home and make everything okay again.

He stared back out towards the water, pulling her closer into his arms, holding her tight and never wanting to let her go again. He felt like Leonardo Dicaprio in the Titanic. He knew he had to hold on as long as he could even though the boat was sinking around him... but the water was freezing cold and his body was already going numb and as much as he believed he could hold on forever he knew deep in his heart that there's only so long a person can tread water before they eventually have to give up the fight.

I blinked my eyes and stretched when I felt him stirring beside me. The sun was on the horizon now, out in the distance, bright and beautiful... almost taunting. My body ached from having slept all night on the porch in his arms, and sadly, my heart felt no better for those moments spent together. I turned to where he was yawning beside me and saw that he too was staring out at that same rising sun --a blank look plastered to his face as the bright light played intensely off his beautiful blue eyes.

I thought about all of the beautiful and wonderful and romantic times we'd shared in our lives together and I knew in my heart that this moment really should have been something spectacular. Something worth cuddling up together over and talking for hours. I missed those days when we could sit together for hours just talking. We'd talk about nothing at all... and everything... and it didn't matter which, it always felt amazing.

Now though, now the silence that passed between the two of us was simply that... silence. An uncomfortable silence created by years of comfortable love falling swiftly to pieces.

I turned when he stood and offered me his hand, never taking his eyes from the horizon as he pulled me gingerly from my spot on the steps, helping me stand again, as if it were something he intended to do forever. We stood there together in that awkward silence a few more moments, staring out at the beautiful ocean, as if perhaps the answer to all of life's challenges were floating somewhere out there on a wave. Instead though, I felt we were watching our hopes and dreams fade away with the moon, all our problems coming back with the dawning of a new day.

He was the first to move, turning without a word and swinging the porch door open. With one last glance at the water he slipped inside and let it shut loudly with a bang behind him.

I followed then, well, not really followed so much as I walked in behind him... and from there we went our separate ways. It was odd to think that the only moments we'd really shared together this entire vacation were those moments on the porch the night before. And those moments, as beautiful as they seemed at the time, faded quickly with the sunlight of the morning. I watched as he headed off up the stairs to Mia's room, never taking my eyes away until he was completely out of sight. Only then did I sigh heavily as I headed for the kitchen on the other side of the house. I turned on the pot of coffee and sat down at the counter, wishing we didn't have to pack up and go home. Wishing I could just freeze time... well, not time now... but time years ago when life was happy and I was normal. Well... not normal... I hadn't been normal for a long, long time.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes as exhaustion struck my body. I glanced up at the clock on the wall and realized why. It was only 5 am. The sun rises early at the beach. I may have known that if I'd woken up any other day to view the sunset... or to watch the tide come in. But this time, unlike all other times we'd come to the beach and shared those beautiful memories, I'd stayed in bed most days til late... somedays much later... and somedays all day. I turned the coffee off again and headed up the stairs myself, stopping at my bedroom door and staring at the papers that still lay in a neat pile on the bedside table. I turned away, disgusted with myself and my life. I closed the door tightly, hoping maybe I could lock that part of my life in that room for a while... maybe forget about it forever. I headed down the hall to where I knew my husband and daughter were sleeping.

I slid the door carefully open and stood there, marveling at the sight of the two of them together. Nick laying on his stomach on the bed, the shirt he'd been wearing the night before, as we'd sat on the porch together in one anothers arms, carefully discarded on the rocking chair in the corner. I smiled at the sight of our daughter, our beautiful Mia, cuddled up close, one hand in the pocket of Nick's khaki shorts -- something she'd done since she was a little baby and they'd napped together -- the other resting sweetly beneath her cheek. Her black hair spilled across her sweet little face and I couldn't help but tear up at the innocence of it all. What was I doing? To him? To her? To us?

I tiptoed quietly across the room and crawled under the cover on the other side of the bed. They both stirred momentarily, but quickly found their peace again. I lay in bed for a long while, listening to the sounds of Mia's gentle breathing. Taking in the scent of Nick's aftershave. The breeze from the window beside the bed blew eagerly through the room and I pulled the covers up tighter around myself and slept.

I'm not sure how long I'd been asleep, or how late it was when I finally awoke, but I opened my eyes to the sun glaring brightly in the window. I could feel Mia beside me, her warm body curled close to my chest, her head on my breast and her knee jutting carelessly into my hip bone. It was painful but I didn't care. It was the kind of discomfort I'd always told myself I missed out on during the months that someone else carried her in their womb. It was the kind of pain that made me realize I loved her so much I'd die for her.

I stared down at her for a few moments, her hair damp and her painted fingernails resting beside my belly button. She was sucking her thumb in that sloppy sort of way that always made those wet glurpy noises that I adored. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head, careful not to disturb her slumber but in dire need to feel her closeness. It was then that I noticed him there, on the other side of the bed. He was laying on one side, propped up on his elbow, staring at me in the sunlight.

I wanted to look away but in that moment when our eyes met I felt a compassion so loud that I couldn't. I wanted to reach out and hold him like I held her. To let him know that everything and all of us would be okay. But I couldn't lie. He looked at me for a long while before he laid back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

"What happened to us?"

I didn't know at first if he was talking to me or the fan that spun circles above us. And so I turned to him, catching his eyes again and raised my eyebrows as if to ask the question.

What happened to us Gracie?"

I wanted to answer that question. I wanted to tell him that I was what happened to us. That all of this was my fault and that if anyone should take the blame it should be me. I wanted to tell him all these things, but the words simply would not come.

"What happened to us"... a simple question with a million complex answers. And so... I just shook my head and closed my eyes and did not respond.

I felt the bed beside me move, lifting gently with the departure of his warm body. I heard his footsteps across the room and on the stairs. I heard a door shut in the distance and I knew... once more... that I was slowly losing him.

And it was all my fault.

I stared out the window of the airplane, watching as the beautiful islands of Hawaii disappeared in the distance. All that was below us now was a vast expanse of ocean. An entire ocean filled with plants and animals and... life. Such a complex and amazing part of the world that from up here in the air looked so seemingly simple. Just a sea of blue splashed below us.

I glanced across the aisle of our small private plane to where Nick and Mia were seated watching one of her cartoon movies (most likely one with princes and princesses) on the DVD player in Nick's lap. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of them there together. Mia laughed at something on the screen... she laughed and laughed... Nick started to giggle along with her and their laughter grew to some infectious sort of chuckle that spread throughout the cabin of the plane and even made the pilot up front giggle with them.

I sighed deeply trying to remember the wonderful times we'd shared in the past... and trying to forget the last year of our lives. As if maybe forgetting would make everything better. I looked out the window again and watched as the last little bit of Hawaii melted away in the distance. All the times we'd traveled there and all the fun we'd had and no matter how many times we left that island I was plagued with the memory of that long flight home. 2008... nine long years ago... nine incredibly long and difficult, inspiring and wonderful, trying and momentous years. And after nine long years, I still remembered the pain. The agony of that hellacious flight from Hawaii to LA. From LA to Kentucky... and Kentucky... to cancer.

I shook the thoughts of that flight away, but I couldn't shake the thoughts of the last year from my head. My mind constantly replayed those moments, nearly a year ago to the day, that our lives were forever changed again. The day that God decided to shift the planets in their very orbit and knock our lives off course once more.

This time though... this time, no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't getting back on track.

I lifted Mia carefully from her crib and cradled her in my arms, shushing her gently as I stood for a few moments, rocking her back and forth in the middle of the room. I grabbed the infants tylenol from the changing table in the corner and measured out the correct doseage. She screamed as I set her down momentarily and swiftly squirted the neon pink gloop into her mouth. I scooped her from the changing table once more and headed out into the hallway, still trying to soothe her pained cries.

Teething sucked.

I walked down the hall as she finally quieted and peeked into the guest room drawing in a sigh of relief as I took in the sight of the sleeping figures in the bed. 13-year-old Riley and her 8-year-old brother, Peter were curled up together there, cuddling as they always did when they spent the night at our house. I snuck in the room and gave them each a gentle kiss on the head, trying my best to cover them with the comforter as Mia squirmed in my arms. I stared at them for a moment as the morning sunlight streamed in the window on their faces, noticing for the first time in a long time how much Riley looked like her mother... and how much Peter smiled like her (because Peter always smiled when he slept). I stared at the picture on the bedside stand of the perfect couple (the handsome man and his bald-headed wife), their children wrapped tightly in their arms basking in the sunshine on a tropical island. Kate would have been so proud of them.

Kate.

My best friend and neighbor and the mother of these two beautiful children. If only she could have lived long enough to see them grow up. To see them go to school and lose their teeth. To see them play sports and go on first dates. Instead it was their father, Sean, who was left alone to do it all... except on Thursday nights when they spent the night at our house so that Sean could work extra hours and Riley and Peter could have some "woman" time.

I gently brushed Peter's hair from his face and kissed his cheek one more time before slipping quietly from the room. I headed down the stairs with the extremely cranky Mia where I fixed her a cup of milk and a bowl of oatmeal before settling myself into the morning paper for my final moments of peace before the other kids woke up and demanded their breakfast.

I thought nothing of it when the phone rang a few minutes later. In my mind it was Sean, calling to see how the kids were doing. Or Nick, calling to tell us he loved us. I didn't even bother to check the caller ID, just picked it up and said, 'Hello."

"Hello?"

"Hello."

The voice on the other line was a voice I didn't recognize, a young man who asked for me by my first name "Kathryn." And normally I'd hang up, believing it to be a salesperson trying to peddle me insurance, but today I didn't. Today I answered and today I said, "This is she." And I'm still not sure why... but today... I did.

"This is Dr. Nathaniel with Women's Health at Central Baptist." He spoke and I listened intently. "We had some concerns about your latest tests and we'd like for you to come in and have some further testing done."

My heart fell. My stomach jumped.

Mia banged her spoon on her highchair.

Peter skipped into the kitchen and asked if I had any pancakes.

The rain outside pelted the windowpane over the sink and the backdoor and my brain.

I hung up the phone and called Nick who was on location in California.

"I'm on the next flight home." He told me, trying hard to keep his composure, "Everything will be okay baby... I'm sure everything will be just fine."

Except it wasn't.

"Grace... Gracie..."

I felt a tug on my shirt and I jumped as Nick's concerned face came into view.

"Uh... you okay?" He asked as I shook my head in attempt to once again clear my foggy brain.

All I could do was nod. I looked out the window of the plane again and saw that we were approaching land.

"LA," he whispered as he shifted a sleeping Mia in his arms and stuck the DVD player back in his backpack, "we should be landing in a few more minutes."

I nodded and shifted uneasily in my seat.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked again, reaching across the aisle and taking my hand in his. This was just one more of those sweet things Nick always did that made me fall in love with him so often all those years ago. He always knew when something was wrong... and he'd never let it go.

I shook my head, "I just hate flying." It was all that I could think to say. Nick hated flying too... it was something we'd always have in common.

He squeezed my hand a little tighter, "I'm sure everything will be just fine."

I closed my eyes...

If only he knew.

It was late by the time they landed at the Bluegrass Airport. Nick could barely keep his eyes open, having spent the past 12 hours on airplanes and in airports making sure his family made it safely from one hectic destination to the next. His body ached with jetlag and sunburn and every part of him was exhausted.

His heart most especially.

He watched as Mia stirred on Gracie's shoulder. She let out a small sigh when he brushed the hair from her cheek before drifting back to dreamland in the comforting arms of her mother as the three of them trudged slowly through the silent terminal. He shifted the heavy bags in his arms and hung his head in sadness and defeat. What should have been remembered as a happy family getaway had instead been yet another step in the painful revelation that his wife was on a one-way track of self destruction.

That thought made him hate himself even more. He'd spent the past several hours on the plane from California wondering if he was making the right choice for his family. For his daughter. For himself. The flight brought back painful memories of another time when he'd been helpless to make things better for her. To save her. But at least then... at least then she'd wanted the little bit of comfort he could offer. This time she was putting up walls... no -- barbed wire fences -- around her heart, and try as he might to climb them, she wasn't about to let him in.

The cold winter air swept their faces as the revolving doors opened out into the parking lot. It felt good. Nick hadn't grown up in Kentucky -- in fact, he'd spent most of his life relaxing on the beach during winter vacations -- but he'd easily gotten used to the cold and the snow. Winter, he realized now, was supposed to be fresh and new. It was supposed to send a chill down a person's spine and make them long for the coming of a fresh new spring. Winter was supposed to be the time in life when you curled up with the one you loved the most and spent long nights by the fireside as you sipped hot chocolate and giggled over silly jokes until you eventually fell asleep in one another's arms.

Winter was supposed to be what he and Grace used to have not all that long ago.

"Hey!"

He heard his brother's voice before he saw him, standing there in the parking lot beside his car, a smile of greeting plastered to his goofy southern face, "Welcome home you!"

Nick had to laugh and he smiled when Gracie laughed to. If anyone could bring out the tiny amount of joy she still occasionally dared show... it was Brian.

"You are still the world's biggest dork Bri," He heard her whisper as she hugged him, careful not to disturb their daughter's slumber.

The car ride home seemed to last forever. It was times like these when I cursed the fact that Nick and I had purchased a home so far out in the middle of nowhere. I sat in the backseat and watched Mia sleep, occasionally glancing out the window at the lights of the city and the Bluegrass fields in the distance. The trees were bare and the moon shone brightly through their branches reminding me of a scene from a Halloween horror film. I longed to go back to the beach where it was warm and sunny. Here it was wintery cold and dreary... that time of the year when all you can dream about is the coming of spring and the blossoming of flowers.

I tried my best to think of our vacation and of how happy Mia had been at the beach, but I couldn't. The sad thoughts came... the memories. Those damned terrifying memories that plagued my mind on a regular basis...

I stood back for a few moments and admired my work. I'd finally finished the last square of the checkered wall in Mia's new playroom -- once my office, a place where I'd never actually done any real work. The only real memories I had of the "office" were the memories of spending countless hours following brutal chemotherapy treatments and radiation sessions just staring at the untouched essays and assignments I should have been doing for the classes I should have been taking in order to finish the master's degree I should have long earned by then.

I smiled at my masterpiece, remembering the day not so long before when I stood in that same doorway, Mia asleep on my shoulder after a long and exhausting night, and finally decided to pack up my hopes of becoming a career woman, and instead jump headfirst into the new dream of being the very best stay at home mom Mia could ever want or need. A mom who would always be there. A mom who, even though I'd been through hell and back and had once been told, a dozen times in a matter of months not to even plan for a life and a future... knew that being there for my daughter... spending and sharing all of the precious moments life had to offer with her... meant far more to me than any career ever could.

I stood in the corner of the room by the window and took in all the work I'd accomplished over the last couple of days. The days of waiting... the days of not knowing. I had to fill them some trivial way. And so I filled them with painting. I dropped Mia off at my mother's house with little explanation other than I needed a little time to myself -- knowing it wouldn't matter to her anyway, she'd take her grandchildren any day of the week. I'd spent the hours after that painting several dozen squares on the main wall of the room. Bright reds and blues and greens. It was colorful and fun, the kind of playroom I'd always wanted as a child. I stood in the doorway now and tried to picture all of the little touches I'd add in the next few weeks. The window curtains with the funky fish pattern. The dragonfly rug. I imagined the room complete with the shelves Nick was putting together in the basement, filled with the toys and the games we'd buy her through the years, and the dollhouse her grandpa Littrell had built her for Christmas.

I tried to imagine all of the fun times that we would share in that room.

Really... I tried.

But the image that kept coming to me, the image that haunted my thoughts and plagued my newest dreams was an image of my husband and my daughter, curled up together in the rocking chair in the corner. The only light in the room from a lamp on the red side table I'd planned on painting and putting in the room, illuminating fresh tears on my husband's face as he rocked our daughter to sleep and stared at the photo of the three of us... the one from the beach of us buried together in the sand... and cried.

I shook the thoughts from my mind. I tried to imagine our daughter, older and wiser, a beautiful teenager with hopes and dreams of her own sitting at the desk I'd painted in the corner working on her homework while I stood over her shoulder and helped her with a particularly difficult math problem.

Those images too were washed from my mind. Washed away by the thought of my daughter in her graduation cap and gown seated at that desk, staring at a photo of the two of us... my favorite of me kissing her cheeks the first moment I welcomed her into my life. She's wiping her own tears now... her father nowhere in sight. Experiencing grief in only the way a teen without a mother ever could.

And the thoughts, though I tried my best to force them away, stayed with me.

I jumped when I felt Nick behind me, his arms gently wrapping around my shoulders as a struggled to breathe normally again and to clear my mind of the saddness that had just settled there.

"This is beautiful," he smiled, "she's going to love it!"

I nodded and bit my lip, "I hope so"

He took my hand in his and offered me my jacket, hesitating for a minute before he asked, "you ready to go?"

So this was it.

Nick had arrived home the evening before, taking me into his arms as I'd collapsed in a puddle of tears and grief. For hours after and long into the night he'd listened to my fears and he'd comforted my heart... but I knew deep inside he was just as terrified as I was.

Was I ready?

Ready to go to the doctor and find out once more that something was horribly wrong?

No.

Never.

But I nodded my head and together we walked through the quiet house and out the door, Nick grabbing his car keys off the front table as he led me to the car and opened the door for me.

"It's gonna be okay." He whispered, squeezing my hand as he climbed in beside me and started the engine... and I know he was saying it more to himself than he was to me.

Because really... I looked at him in silence. How could anyone ever really know.