Her name was Brooke. She was ten years old at the time. The first time I saw her, I knew there was something special about her.
My husband and I had been married 52 years. In those 52 years, we had been through almost everything imaginable together. I remember every detail like it was just yesterday. He came home from the war in 1944. He had been stationed in Germany. We met at a party thrown by a mutual friend in the Fall of '44. I was at the appetizer table about to reach for a pretzel and at the same moment, so did Arthur. Our hands brushed each other and for some reason, I felt the need to strike up a conversation. At that moment, I knew something wonderful would come out of this. We were married two years later. We bought a house outside of Providence, Rhode Island. We tried to have children but couldn't. We found out that I had gone sterile from medications I took as a teenager. We thought about adopting but knew it would not be the same as having our own. Instead, we did things like coach softball teams and babysit for relatives. While this semi-satisfied our need to impact children, we knew we wanted more.
Arthur worked in a factory about ten minutes from our home. I was a "domestic engineer" as they say these days. A.k.a. a housewife. I enjoyed staying at home and tending the house, gardening on sunny days, and curling up in front of the fireplace in the winter, waiting for Arthur to come home from work. Our relationship never lost its spark - even as we aged, we maintained the hearts of young people. Our friends used to tease us and ask when we planned to grow up. From vacations in Cape Cod to spur of the moment trips to the West Coast, our relationship had all the excitement a married couple could hope for. We had friends, a nice house, a decent amount of money, but most importantly, we had each other. And that was all we needed.
We grew old together and we thought nothing could ever come between us. That was until Arthur came home from the doctor's office on February 13, 1998. He had been coughing a lot and sometimes found it hard to breathe. I'll never forget the look on his face when he walked into our house and said to me, "Rita, we need to sit down and talk." I had been cooking dinner - macaroni and meatsauce, Arthur's favorite. His words took me by surprise and I went and sat with him on the couch. He took me by the hand and looked into my eyes. A small tear tricked down the left side of his face and he told me, "Rita, the doctors say I have some type of lung problem. They found asbestos in my lungs." I immediately thought that this was something the doctors could fix with some medicine. But Arthur went on�"Sweetheart, there's nothing they can do for me now. They're only giving me a few months to live." At that moment, I broke down. So many thoughts ran through my head, and I tried so hard to get them out that my thoughts came out as a mumbling sob. He held me in his arms, saying over and over, "I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm sorry." We must have sat on that couch for two hours before I let go of him. At that moment, I knew my life would never be the same again. This person who has been with me my entire life was going to be leaving me. What was I supposed to do? I laid in bed that night and prayed to God to help Arthur and I through this. I've never been a very religious person, but at this point, I didn't know where else to turn.
The next day I was in the kitchen making lunch for myself when there was a knock at the back door. I wondered who could be stopping by to see me. When I opened the door, a little girl, about ten years old stood smiling at me. She opened her mouth and said, "I'm sorry Miss, but my dog wondered into your garden and ate some of your tomatoes. I felt really bad and I wanted to tell you. Please don't be mad at me." I looked at the little girl and asked her name. "Brooke," she said. "I just moved into the house down the street. I'll buy you some new tomatoes to replace the ones Teddy ate." I smiled at her and said, "Don't worry about it sweetie. I can plant some new ones."
"You're not mad at me?" she asked. "No, I'm not mad. Thank you for telling me." A smile came across her face and she said, "Well it was nice meeting you. I have to go home though, my mom is cooking lunch for me." "Okay dear, thank you again for being honest."
The days came and went. Arthur and I spent the nights together watching television, playing cards, and reading stories. One night around 7:00, there was another knock at the door. It was the same little girl. "Hi maam," she said. "I bought some new seeds for you to replace the ones my dog ate." "You didn't have to do that, honey." "I know, but I wanted to. I used my allowance money." "Why don't you come in for a few minutes and have some cookies?" "I should really go home, I don't want my mom to worry," she said. "But I'm really hungry, so I guess I could come in for a minute." So she came in, and I introduced her to Arthur. Arthur loved children. While his spirits were down from the news about his health, this child somehow managed to put a smile on his face. Brooke told us that she had moved here from Arizona. Her dad had taken a new job as a carpenter here on the east coast. She said she was not in school yet because her mom wanted her to start in September so she could meet new friends and not go into a classroom behind the other students. Around 8:00, I got tired and wanted to go to bed. I whispered to Arthur and expected him to hint at the little girl to go home, but he said, "goodnight sweetheart. Brooke and I are just going to finish up this game of 'go fish.'" So I went to bed. Our room was next to the living room and I could vaguely make out what the two of them were talking about. I heard Arthur laughing a lot, something he hadn't done much of since the news. It was about 9:00 when I heard our back door slam shut and Arthur came to bed.
The next day when I woke up, I found a card outside our back door. It was on blue paper and said on the front, "Mister and Maam." I opened the card and it read, "Thank you for the cookies. Mr. Arthur, I had fun playing cards with you. I hope you feel better." When Arthur came home that night, I showed him the card. He asked if I had told Brooke that he was sick, and I said no. Later that night, Brooke came by again and asked if Mr. Arthur was home to play cards. She came in and sat down with my husband and I, and Arthur asked how she knew he was sick. She said, "Mr. Arthur, you coughed a lot last night. And you looked kind of sad. I just wanted to make you happy." He said, "Thank you sweetie, I'll be okay." Brooke and Arthur sat and played cards again that night, and I sat and watched them. Once again, Brooke left around 9, and Arthur and I went to bed.
I ran to the store the next day to pick up some macaroni and when I came back, I saw Brooke standing outside our door. It was mid-afternoon. She ran up to my car when I pulled in and asked if she could help me carry some bags. I gave her a little plastic bag with some bread in it to bring inside. She looked at me and said, "Maam, I'm a big girl. I can carry two bags." I laughed and handed her another small bag with some cookies in it. She looked up and said, "Are these for me?" I hadn't intended them to be, but how could I say no? "They're for when you and Mr. Arthur (as she called him) play cards. He likes playing games with you." "That's good," she said. "I like making Mr. Arthur smile." Brooke came by three or four nights during the week and played cards. I hadn't seen Arthur this happy in a long time.
The days and months passed, April became May, May became June, and before long, it was November. By this point, Arthur had become sicker. One night, Brooke came over to play a game with Arthur and when I opened the door, she had a little piece of paper in her hand. "Can Mr. Arthur play cards maam?" I looked at her and said, "I'm sorry sweetie, Mr. Arthur isn't feeling too good tonight." "Can I talk to him for a minute? I have to ask him an important question." "Brooke, maybe you can come back tomorrow and he'll feel better." "Well can you give this to him and tell him it's from me?" "Surely, dear." "Thanks Maam. What's wrong with Mr. Arthur?" "He just doesn't feel too well, that's all." "Why is he so skinny? He used to be strong like me." "He hasn't been very hungry lately. I'll tell him you came by, okay?" "Okay! tell Mr. Arthur I hope he feels better." I took the little piece of paper into Arthur and opened it up. It read, "WILL YOU PLEASE COME TO POP-POP DAY AT MY SCHOOL WITH ME MR. ARTHUR?" A tear ran down Arthur's cheek. I told Arthur I would tell Brooke he wouldn't be able to make it. When I said that, he grabbed my hand and said, "You tell her I said yes." "But Arthur, you're so sick." "I know, sweetheart, but this is important to me. This little girl makes me forget I'm sick."
Arthur stopped going to the factory. Brooke came by the next day and asked for "Mr. Arthur." He still wasn't feeling well, but I had been told that if Brooke came over, he wanted to say hello to make sure she thought he was okay. He was lying in bed, and I took Brooke into our room. As he rolled over and saw the child, his eyes lit up. "Hi Mister Arthur!," she said and gave him a hug. "Hi little angel," he said. I left the two of them to talk. When Brooke came out of his room, she had a smile on her face. "Mr. Arthur is going to come to Pop-Pop day with me!" "That's wonderful sweetheart, I'm sure he's very happy you asked him. Can your Pop-pop not go?" "My Pop-pop died before we moved here. He used to cough a lot and then one day my mommy said he had to go see God." I took Brooke in my arms and hugged her as I cried. "What's wrong Maam? I'm okay, I know my pop-pop is better now. Why are you crying? Did you know my pop-pop too?" "No, Brooke, I didn't know your pop-pop but I know someone like him." "Do I know him?" "Probably not honey." "Maam, why does Mister Arthur cough a lot? Is he going to see God like my Pop-Pop?" "He coughs a lot because he is sick. And I don't know if he is going to go see God." "Well if he does, I hope he can still come to Pop-Pop day with me." "Me too, sweetie. Me too."
I went and sat with Arthur after she left. Arthur and I talked for awhile. He said to me, "Rita, don't let me miss Pop-Pop day. Brooke was saying that Pop-Pop day is such a happy day at her school. She told me that everyone who comes is so happy because they get to talk about why they have a happy life. She said something kind of unusual though. She said that no sick people are allowed on Pop-Pop day and that I was allowed to go because she knows I wouldn't be sick anymore then. So don't let me miss it, okay? Promise me." "I promise," I said. Pop-Pop day was two days away.
The next day came and Arthur was not doing very well. A doctor had come by to check on him and said there was nothing else he could really do, and that Arthur was in God's hands. The doctor told Arthur to stay in bed, but Arthur told the doctor that tomorrow was an "important day for him" and that he had to go to Pop-Pop day. The doctor said that as long as he was sick, he should not go anywhere. Arthur, sure as anything, looked at the doctor and quietly said, "I'm not going to be sick tomorrow."
I sat at the kitchen table that night and cried. I knew Arthur would not be around much longer. I thought about our lives together, everything we had done and been through. I looked around our home where we had spent so many happy days. I got up to get a tissue and saw Brooke's card on the table. "WILL YOU PLEASE COME TO POP-POP DAY WITH ME AT MY SCHOOL?" I started to cry again. Arthur had gotten so sad since his sickness was diagnosed, and this little girl had brought his spirits back. I was determined to help Arthur get out of bed tomorrow and go to Pop-Pop day. The night went by slowly and I sat by Arthur's bed trying to help him stop coughing. He kept telling me over and over, "I want to go to Pop-Pop day." "We'll try, Arthur. We will, I promise. If you're very sick, you can't go." "I'm not going to be sick tomorrow. Brooke said so." "Okay, sweetheart."
I fell asleep around 5:00 that morning on the couch in the living room. Arthur had fallen asleep about an hour before and I was waiting for Brooke to come by. Around 7:30 there was a knock on the door. I got up and opened it. There stood little Brooke, blonde hair, blue eyes, big smile on her face, looking up at me. "Is Mr. Arthur coming today?" I said, "I don't know sweetie, Mr. Arthur is very sick." She looked at me and said, "No he's not. It's Pop-Pop day. Everything will be okay today." I didn't know what to say, so I let Brooke come in and told her I would go check on Mr. Arthur. I walked into his room and sat down at his bedside. I didn't realize it, but Brooke had followed me in. I rubbed Arthur's hand and said, "Honey, Brooke is here to take you to Pop-Pop day." I looked over at Brooke, and she said, "Mr. Arthur is okay. I'm going to take him to Pop-Pop day now." I looked down at Arthur. A smile was on his lips, but no breath came from his mouth. I started to cry and looked over at Brooke. "It's Pop-Pop day," I heard a voice whisper. There stood Brooke, illuminated by a light. It was then that I realized God answered my prayers, and I realized what "Pop-Pop day" really meant.
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