No Time For Regrets

The first time I made love with Jenny happened to be the first night we met as well. It also happened to be in the last year of my life, although I did not know that at the time. Even if I had known that little fact, I would not have changed anything about that first night together; save, perhaps telling her that ‘I loved her’ out loud instead of keeping it to myself.

Yet, I should not regret, even that. There could have always been a chance that if I had, it would have been too much, too soon and she would have pushed me right away. Still, a part of me does regret it that her ears didn't hear those words from me even then, at the start, at our near beginning.

Ironically, the last thing I was looking for that night was a chance to hook up. I was still in the process of untangling all of the hooks still embedded into my soul from my previous train wreck of a relationship. When I first saw Jenny, I intended to avoid her at all costs, because it was obvious she was on a mission to hook up with someone. She had that look in her eye, she gave off the vibe, and she was dressed to kill anyone that was lucky enough to get her out of that dress.

The only reason I took the plunge with Jenny was because she was settling on a frienemy of mine. I would have tried to save the ugliest and most cruel woman on the planet from that fate. Luckily Jenny was on the opposite end of the spectrum.

Even now, as my life left the body that now lies there as an empty shell, I remember that first night together. How she just felt in my arms. How she just clicked into my very soul. How all of the hooks I was trying to untangle in my life simply ceased to be. I remember how scared out of my mind I was to finally find true love and it was with a woman that seemed to have wanted just a one night stand. I remember how I initially feigned falling asleep just so I could hold on to her tenderly for as long as I could. I could remember how wonderful it was to wake up with her still snuggled against me the next morning.

And I remember how everyday after that one, was better than the day before, because everyday after that one she became more entwined in my life. Funny that now that I am dead, the only regret I have is that I didn’t tell her I loved her from the very start. Because, somehow, magically, I did...

***

“Father, Jennifer Cromwell is here to see you now.”

Little Jenny Cromwell. How long has it been since the last time I saw her? 5 years? Closer to 10. When was the last time I saw her in a mass? At least that long. I wonder what woe brings her to me now. Can I dare hope that she has returned to the fold? I guess I will soon find out.

“Thank you, Mary, you can send her in now.”

A few moments later the door opened and there she was. I cannot help but smile, even as I can see the pain so plainly on her face. I am grateful that she is not trying to hide it. I am so glad she is giving me a chance to help her through whatever she needs help with.

The last time I saw Jenny, she was still a teen, had her hair cut short and half blue, and in our exchange she said she would miss me but she was done with God. Now she was a woman grown, hair much longer, but a wisp of it was still dyed the same shade of blue. How odd that it is seeing that wisp that starts a smile to my lips. So many long discussions with her parents trying to make them understand that hair is just hair, that it is her soul they need to fret about.

I stand and smile toward her warmly. Without hesitation she walks quickly around the desk and hugs me fiercely. It is a hug, long overdue. I return it kindly and with a bit of surprise. I let it linger for as long as she needs it. I can feel her holding back her tears. I can feel her deep seated pain. This was going to be a hard meeting, for both of us. I hated losing her so long ago. It feels like she is only here on the thinnest of threads. This poor girl needs as much compassion as I can spare, I just hope it is enough.

Jenny finally breaks the hug, wipes her eyes with an arm and moves back around the desk to take a seat.

“So,” I begin to ask, then change the question midstream, “how have you been Jenny? It is so good to see you.”

“Wonderful. Terrible. All over the place, really, Father Ken. I’m so sorry…”

“There is nothing at all to be sorry about, Jenny. We each have our path to follow in life. I am just glad yours crossed mine again. I have missed our talks.”

“I am sure that is not true,” Jenny answered, distracted, ”I was usually questioning everything.”

“And is it not alright to question? How can one grow without finding answers to their questions? You always had a honest heart and I never minded the questions, Jenny, even if I knew you wouldn’t like the answers I gave.”

I watch her cringe at that. I can see the look in her eyes that she fears she will not like my answers now. The pause became silence and then became awkward. She wanted to ask something but couldn’t bring herself to.

“So what does bring you to see me, Jenny. What is so terrible that you are afraid to ask me?”

“I want...I need to get married, Father Ken. I want...I would like it if you would marry us…”

I laugh, rich and deeply. I am happy as I can be to hear this, even though there are obviously things to work through. I am about to say my congratulations to her and ask when I get to meet the young man to begin, when she cuts me off.

“...and I need to get married soon, today if possible. We do not have much time left. I’ll do anything you want, I’ll even do confession...I...we just need this. He would have come if he could...”

Jenny cries. In a fit all of her woe spills out like a fountain. It breaks my heart, even as I try to process everything she just told me. I know her well enough to let her have her space. I wait for her to work through the tears.

For her to be willing to do confession, that is telling. She hated the practice. That something she has to do for herself, it is not for me. Strange that she brings it up. The desperation in her demeanor. There is true need there.

“Why so soon, Jenny, even though I am fearful of your answer.”

“Because he is dying, because the love of my life is dying and I need to be his wife before he does.”

“Well, I guess you need to introduce me to him so I can see if he is worthy to marry you.” I leave all of the rest unsaid. Her soul is invested into this. I know I probably will marry her now anyway, I just hope the boy she has fallen in love with is worthy of her.

Jenny laughs with joy and relief. Then she surprises me by beginning confession on her own. I wasn’t going to force it upon her. Even in her state, I wasn’t even going to ask for it.

I listen to it, I weep for her on the inside as I cheer for her on the inside. She believes she is doing it for me, but I can see the weight of it all lift off of her. Some day I hope I get to ask her if she felt it too.

One of the most bittersweet moments of my life was marrying Jenny to the love of her life, Mark. Upon the moment I met him, I understood her need with crystal clarity. Never in my service to God has I been happier to marry two people together.

The saddest moment of my life, was giving Mark his last rites two days later. I honestly believe I wept just as hard as Jenny did. This boy changed her life and their time together was too short.

***

I stand in front of the congregation of family and friends. I see Father Ken hovering toward my side, waiting to swoop in to take over if I falter. I cannot falter. I close my eyes and still feel Mark all around me. I take a breath and begin.

“The first time I met Mark, my husband, he saved me, although I didn’t know it yet. I was on a path of self-destruction. I wanted to self-destruct. He swept in and saved me, like an angel.

“I remember the first time he told me he loved me. We were laying together for the first time," I gulp at the admission, considering where I am standing, and everyone I am speaking to, "He was half asleep. He not only meant every word, I felt each word tattooed to my soul…”