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“I just,”she mimes, “shake it off… shake it off…”
My eyes widen.
She’s forgiving me.
In fact… as I watch the two of them come together and dance in unison again, I realize that that’s exactly the message. Shake it off. Let it pass. Move on.
Lizzie isn’t hiding from her losses and her pain. She isn’t running from her life in New York. This smile, beaming across her face tells me that she loves her life just the way it is.
People judge, people leave, and—I look at my mom—sometimes people are forgotten. But that doesn’t have to be the end.
There are whole days when my mother doesn’t remember who I am. But here she is remembering an entire routine, simple as it is, and dancing again.
Lizzie lost her father, witnessed her family torn apart. Now she’s here, making friends with someone else she’s destined to lose whenever Ma’s memory slips. And enjoying the moment all the same.
The point is to live those moments with joy. Whether it’s destined to last or not.
That’sthe message.
And as the last few bars of the song come to a close, and my family strikes a final, dramatic pose, I’m left only with the evidence to prove their point. I’m grinning from ear to ear.
I can only applaud, allowing them to take their bows as I whoop and cheer for an encore.
“I told you he’d appreciate a bit of Taylor,” Lizzie laughs at Ellie, panting from her efforts and brushing her neck with the back of her hand. I standing up, move to place an arm under hers and take some of her weight from her foot. She smiles at me in thanks, her free hand naturally falling to my chest.
“Caleb, you look terrible,” Ma suddenly breaks in with her usual lack of tact.
Instead of taking offense this time, I can only laugh.
“It’s been an… interesting twenty-four hours, Ma.”
“Well, we’ll have to fix that with a little comfort food, won’t we? PB-no-J’s, anyone?”
And, as if performing a full musical number in her living room is a usual occurrence, Ma bustles away to fix us all plates of peanut butter sandwiches.
I take the opportunity to turn to Lizzie, my heart both swelling and aching. Now is the time to beg for a clear answer. One that can put my mind truly at ease.
“You know,” Lizzie says before I can even open my mouth. “It’s your choice, but I’m not so sure your mom should move from here.”
Blinking, I glance over at the woman who’s happily clattering about in her kitchen.
“The nurse was here when I arrived. She said Ellie’s been easier the last few weeks. Fewer episodes, calmer disposition. She seems happier.”
I note the color in Ma’s cheeks, not to mention the dance I’d just witnessed for myself. Maybe more medication and therapies aren’t what would make her happiest? Maybe Lizzie’s right and all that’s needed is more of this. Less stress and more laughter. More family.
“Yeah,” I murmur, “Maybe…”
But first, I need to know the truth.
“Is it too much to hope then,” I say, brushing back a lock of hair and revealing that little freckle by her ear, “that I’m forgiven?”
“Forgiven?” she asks, turning back her head and watching me with a gaze so tender, it warms me to my toes.
“I never did hear your answer to my apology. For everything I said.”
“You mean when you were jealous and your feelings were making you crazy?”
I’d smile if I wasn’t so nervous.
