We Live on Borrowed Time
The pride I feel as I watch Jed address the convention is almost
overwhelming. It is taking all I have
not to be reduced to a blubbering, teary mess right now. At this moment, Jed is poised, energetic,
articulate and proud. The only thing
marring the perfect scene is the simple wooden cane he's propped up against the
side of the podium. It stands there as a
reminder of how different things are from when Jed addressed the convention 4
years ago.
It is as if everything has changed and yet nothing has changed.
Physically, Jed has aged much more than 4 years, he's grayer, slower and
though he does his best to hide it, he's more fragile in many ways. Yet he speaks now as if nothing in the world
is more important than what he's doing at this very moment. And he truly feels that way. At this moment he looks vibrant and
healthy. It's amazing what an afternoon
nap and a little make-up can do.
In the past few years our family has been through so much, Zoey's
kidnapping, tension with Liz and Doug and nearly losing Leo. And that's just the personal stuff. Let's not even get into the political crap
we've weathered.
But Zoey is now healthy and happy, standing not 20 feet from me, holding
Charlie's hand. She divides her attention
between her father and the man who has stood beside her through everything,
even when she tried to push him away. No matter what Jed may say, he's thrilled
to see Zoey and Charlie back together again.
Liz and Doug are sitting out there somewhere, preferring to watch Jed with
the rest of the audience. An uneasy
truce has formed between Doug and the rest of the family. I think he realized
that he was only thinking of running for that house seat because he thought he
could grab the end of Jed's coattails.
And then that crap he tried to pull back in New
Hampshire was just that...crap. Liz effectively put an end to that when she
wrote a personal check to the Matthew Santos campaign. She and Doug worked out their differences; in
other words, he realized just how wrong he was.
Annie and Gus are great and the whole family is sitting together
watching Jed.
Leo's standing off to the side waiting for the announcement that will, most
likely, shock many. He did manage to
find a few minutes to call Mallory so she won't be one of the shocked. As Jed is nearing the announcement of the
Democratic ticket, Leo looks up and gives me a little smile. It's true we've
had our differences but a heart attack tends to put things into
perspective. We talked a lot this winter
and spring. The conversations stemmed
out of my hovering over him after the heart attack and Jed after the recurrence
of his MS symptoms. But over time, the
conversations ended up being less about medical concerns and more about
friendship, loyalty and eventually forgiveness.
What we each needed to forgive the other for was never quite clear to
either of us but there were just things we needed to get past.
And happily, we did.
"....Matthew Vincente Santos and Leo Thomas McGarry."
And with Jed's words the place erupts into thunderous applause. I give Leo a wink as he heads towards the
stage with Matt Santos. He winks back
and takes a visible breath as he walks towards Jed. I watch as my husband shakes their hands,
picks up his cane and walks off the stage with a huge smile on his face.
His speedy stride and the smile fade just a little as he steps out of
camera range. He leans a little more on his cane and waves off Ron Butterfield,
who I assume is asking him if he's ok and if he needs anything. Ron backs off and gives me a smile,
effectively turning over the care and keeping of Jed to me as the agents widen
their perimeter to give us as much privacy as is possible backstage at the
Democratic National Convention.
"You did great," I whisper as I brush back that stray lock of
hair from his forehead and pull him into my arms. He doesn't say anything, instead he holds on
longer than I had expected. "Jed,
sweetie, are you ok?" I ask as I take a step back to get a good look at him. He nods a little and smiles. "Sit for a
minute," I suggest as I look around for a chair. Ron, using his well-honed psychic abilities,
appears out of nowhere with a folding chair and a bottle of water. Jed sits and drinks a little water.
"I'm just tired," he assures me as he sits down. And I think I believe him. This day has been endless, emotionally and
physically exhausting for all, especially Jed.
I nearly had to sedate him to get him to rest this afternoon. He finally gave in when I promised him some
recreational activities later on. But
when I made that promise I had assumed this thing would be over by the time the
late news came on...on the East Coast.
So much for that assumption.
Jed rests for a few minutes as we watch Matt Santos' acceptance speech on a
nearby monitor. I rub his back and he
drinks a little more water.
"Mr. President, the motorcade is ready whenever you are," Ron
says as Matt Santos and Leo accept another round of thunderous applause.
"Let's go back to the hotel," I suggest, wanting to get Jed
moving before Matt and Leo get off the stage.
If the three of them start talking it will be hours before we can get
out of here.
"Yeah, sounds good," Jed agrees in a soft, suddenly weary
voice. I hand him his cane as the agents
move closer. The trip to the car is
mercifully short and nobody tries to stop us along the way. As anticipated, Jed is all but asleep when
the limo pulls into the underground garage at our hotel.
"Jed, wake up," I say, nudging him just a little. He startles awake and rubs his eyes in a
rather adorable fashion, making me wish it wasn't so late and he wasn't so
exhausted.
"Good night, Ron."
"Good night, Mr. and Mrs. President.
There's an agent outside your door if you need anything," Ron says
as he bids us good night. He speaks into
his cuff, signing himself off for the night as he heads into his room down the
hall. I steer Jed into the room and point
him in the direction of the bathroom.
"Wash the make up off, brush your teeth and take your pills," I
instruct him as I grab my pajamas out of the dresser. He comes back out a minute later still
completely dressed. I guess I left out
the part about putting on his pajamas.
"Oh no," I mutter as Jed flops onto the bed, shoes and all,
and reaches for the remote.
"Please," he whines.
"No way. You turn the
television on and you'll be awake for hours.
You need some sleep."
"I'm too wired," he complains as he kicks off his shoes and pulls
at his tie.
"Wired? You fell asleep on the
5 minute drive back here," I remind him as I help him unbutton his shirt.
"Yeah, maybe you're right. But
if you want to go ahead and finish undressing me, I wouldn't mind all that
much," he said trying to be suave and charming but the effect is ruined by
a massive yawn.
"Yeah, I'm sure you wouldn't mind at all, because you'll be asleep in
about 5 minutes," I tease as I pull back the covers. "You want pajamas?"
"This is fine," he mutters as he crawls under the covers in his
boxers and t-shirt.
I sit on the edge of the bed put my hand on his chest. "I am so proud of you," I whisper
as I kiss him softly.
"Thank you," he sighs as he turns on his side to face me. "I think I need to take a raincheck on
the recreational stuff," he whispers as his eyes slide closed.
"That's ok Babe, I'll be here in the morning," I assure him as I
pull the covers up a little and tuck him in.
I brush my teeth and wash my face.
By the time I get back into the bedroom, Jed's snoring softly.
*************
"Jed," I call softly as I reach out for him and find his side of
the bed cold and empty. The light in the
bathroom is off but there a little light coming from the sitting room. I contemplate just going back to sleep for
about 3 seconds. I figure if his side of
the bed is cold, he's been up for a while.
Just want to make sure he's ok, that he's not sick or brooding with a
glass of scotch. "Jed, honey,"
I call a little louder as I throw on my robe and head for the other room. He's sitting with his back to me and he gives
a little wave over his shoulder but doesn't turn around. I walk around to stand in front of him. He's sitting on the overstuffed chair wearing
his robe. One of the extra blankets is
thrown over his legs and his slippered feet are on the ottoman. A cup of tea
sits on the table next to him; I think he's been awake for a while as the tea
is barely warm when I take a sip.
"Are you ok?" I ask as I climb onto his lap.
"I don't know. I woke up to use
the bathroom and couldn't go back to sleep," he explains as he puts his
arms around me and shifts my weight a little, trying to get comfortable. "That's better," he sighs.
"You could have woken me up."
"You were sound asleep, you didn't even wake up when I tripped over
the desk chair," Jed laughs as he slips his hand inside my bathrobe,
pushing up my pajama top to rest his hand against my ribcage. I snuggle closer, pulling the blanket up a
little higher.
"So what's really wrong?" I feel him shrug his shoulders and take
a deep breath. His normal move when he's
stalling for time, trying to get his thoughts in order. "Do you feel ok?" I ask as I reach
to feel his forehead. He's nice and
cool.
"Yeah. Just feeling a
little...I don't know..."
"Tired, old, sad?" I guess as I reach inside his robe and rest my
hand on his hip.
"Yeah, something like that.
Just seems like it's all downhill from here," he says with a sad
laugh.
"Well, Jed to be honest, I wasn't sure you'd make it this far," I
admit quietly.
"I know, me either," he whispers.
I run my hand up his side, stopping when my fingers reach the scar right
under his ribcage. I think about how
when he was shot, I felt like we were given a second chance, that someone up
there wanted us to have more time together.
"When did you start thinking that maybe I'd have to give it all
up?" Jed asks curiously a few minutes later.
"On the plane, coming home from China,"
I reply, shuddering at the memory of Jed passed out cold in the
wheelchair. That was a moment I hope to
never live through again.
"Yeah. I had visions of you
ordering the plane to land in Manchester
and just drop us off at the farm," he laughs, a deep, hearty laugh that
reverberates through both of us as we're curled up in the chair. He hasn't laughed enough lately, I miss that
sound.
"It had crossed my mind. But I
knew there was no reason for us to think that you wouldn't recover."
"I didn't recover completely," he says as he points to the cane
that is hooked over the arm of the chair.
"Do you think I'll ever get rid of it?"
"Honestly?" He nods a
little. "Probably not." Jed sighs but I don't think he's surprised at
my answer. He has used the cane before
after an "episode" but he could usually get rid of it after a week or
two. This time it's been months and
while he's come a long way, I don't think he'll come back fully. And I think that's the way it's going to be
from now on. I expect that with each
future episode he'll take longer to recover and not quite come all the way
back. But he doesn't ask me for any more
predictions so I don't give them. One
day he'll ask and I'll be honest. But
until then, my predictions will remain my own.
"We live on borrowed time," he whispers out of the blue as he
kisses the top of my head.
"Can't smile without you," I mutter back.
"Huh?" Jed asks as he gives me a strange look.
"I'm sorry, I thought we were listing Barry Manilow songs," I
tease, trying to lighten the mood a little
"Cute," he says with a grin before returning to his vague
brooding state.
So much for lightening the mood.
"We do, live on borrowed time, I mean.
And each day is a gift."
"And we don't know how many gifts we have left," Jed
whispers. I hold him tight, resting my
head on his chest. I can both feel and
hear his breath catch as his emotions finally get the best of him. He rests his chin on the top of my head for a
minute, trying to keep from completely falling apart. I reach to wipe the tears from his face and
his silent tears dissolve into hiccupping sobs.
I scoot up a little to sit on the arm of the chair, putting my bare feet
on the opposite arm. Jed leans his head
back; curling up in the corner of the chair. I run my fingers through his
hair. I can't help but notice how gray
it's gotten lately.
Somehow I manage to hold my own emotions in check as Jed cries like he
hasn't cried in years. I'm not sure what
exactly brought all this on, but at this point, that's not really all that
important. Making him feel safe and
loved is what matters.
When his tears slow I pull a tissue out of the pocket of my robe. "Is it clean?" he asks with a
little laugh as stares at the crumpled blue tissue.
"More or less," I answer with a smirk. He wipes his face and blows his nose. "Feel better now?" I ask as I
carefully take the tissue from him and toss it on the coffee table.
"Yeah. I'm surprised I held
everything in that long," he muses as he pulls me back down onto his
lap. "I have no idea where that
came from," he mutters against my neck.
"It's been a long few days, you're exhausted, jet-lagged..."
"And let's not forget, old and soon to be unemployed," he adds
with a laugh.
"I prefer the term "retired"," I tease as I slide off
his lap and stand up. "Come back to
bed." Jed lets me pull him to his
feet and he reluctantly takes the cane I hold out for him.
We curl up under the covers, facing each other in the dark and quiet of the
room. Jed tucks on hand under his head
and reaches out for me with the other. I
kiss his fingertips and tuck his hand against my cheek. It's only a few minutes before I hear his
breathing even out and he falls back to sleep.
I roll over a little and in his sleep Jed moves closer to me. He puts his head on my shoulder and I hold
him tight.
The tears I held in earlier flow silently so I don't wake him up
again. I know I put on a brave front
most of the time, but there are days, days like this, that I'm plain terrified
about what the future holds. All I know
is, we'll face things together, just as we have for 40 years.
I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my pajamas and snuggle deeper under the
blankets. I plant a kiss on Jed's forehead and close my eyes, hoping to fall
asleep as quickly as he did.
But as I could have predicted, that doesn't happen.
Phrases from the song run through my head, words I don't think I've heard
for years, but somehow can recall with ease.
We live on borrowed time,
The future's in God's hands,
Yesterday is past, tomorrow seems a million miles away,
Now we may have a year, or we may have a lifetime,
Let's celebrate and sing as we walk bravely into the unknown,
We'll face it all together and we'll never be alone.
For over ten years I've had the feeling that we've been living on borrowed
time, we've been fighting back against MS, against time, against fate and
against the unknown. But faith in each
other and faith in God has helped to grow stronger in the face of uncertainty.
And that faith will continue, after we've gone back to Washington,
after the election and after we leave the White House on January 20th. That day will be the end of a very long
chapter, but not the end of our lives.
We still have a lot more living to do and every day is
precious...especially since we've living on borrowed time.
THE END
