I knew why she’d asked us all here for the weekend—her reasons were obvious—but hearing her say the words final wishes made it so much more real. Tears welled in my eyes. There was no way I’d get through today dry.
Bree looked at each one of us before she began. I was in awe of how strong she could be.
“Last week when I went to my doctor, I signed a DNR form.” She raised her long-sleeve shirt to reveal a bracelet I hadn’t noticed on her wrist. “I’m sure you all know what that means, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I also know what it means. This bracelet tells any emergency responder or physician that I do not want to have prolonged life-saving treatments performed on me. I’m choosing not to be resuscitated in instances where my heart stops, or where I might need long-term intubation.”
Tears streamed down my face, and Mariah reached over and handed me a tissue.
Bree looked at me sadly. She actually felt bad for us. Talk about being selfless.
“I’m so sorry I need to do this, and that it’s causing you pain. But I believe it’ll be better in the long run if everything is clear. It would be far worse for you all to be unsure of my wishes and have to make decisions on my behalf you aren’t certain about. I also don’t want you to think I might’ve signed documents like the DNR in haste. I want to make sure you know I’ve thought long and hard about my decisions.”
Of course, this made perfect sense. It was the responsible thing to do. Though that didn’t make it any easier. I felt so distraught, so utterly gutted, that when Tobias reached over and took my hand, I didn’t have the wherewithal to pull it away. Instead, I clutched it right back.
“Dad is my executor. My estate is fairly simple and straightforward. All of my remaining savings will go the Lymphangioleiomyomatosis Research Foundation. I have a safety deposit box, which has a few things in it I’d like each of you to have, and he’ll make sure to distribute those.”
For the next twenty minutes, my best friend went on to talk about pain management, donating her organs, her funeral plans, and a half a dozen other things that I heard, but didn’t really process. She talked so long that she had to take multiple breaks to catch her breath. By the time she finished, she’d worn herself out so much that she needed to lie down and rest.
I went with her to the bedroom to make sure she was okay.
Bree sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “We’re never going to have these depressing discussions after today. But things needed to be said.”
“I understand. And I’m amazed at how brave you are, holding it all together while you do this. You’re incredible, Bree.”
She took my hand in hers. “I need you to do something for me. I didn’t want to discuss it in front of Tobias.”
“Of course, anything.”
She smiled. “I was counting on you saying that.”
“What do you need?”
“I need you to promise me you’ll fight for true love.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I worry about things—like my dad not going to church after I’m gone, because he blames God. So I made him promise he’d go to services every Sunday for a year after I’m not around anymore. I figured if he could get through that first year, his faith would help him find his way the rest of the time. And I worry you’ve given up on love because so many people have disappointed you in your life.”
I sighed. “I want to give you anything that will make you happy. But I’m not sure how to promise I’ll fight for something that may not exist, Bree.”
She frowned. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“I mean, really trust me. Blindly. Enough that you can believe something I say to be true, even if it doesn’t make any sense to you?”
I thought about it. “I think so.”
She looked me in the eyes. “Good. Real love is out there, because I’ve experienced it. I don’t talk about my ex a lot because our breakup was difficult for me. But I’ve been loved by a man and loved him back in a way that was pure and true. So I can tell you, without any hesitation whatsoever, that real love exists.”
“I believe you experienced that. But how can you be certain there’s someone out there like that for everyone?”
She looked down at her hands for a minute before looking back up at me. “Faith. I have faith.”
I wanted to believe what she said, if for no other reason than to put her mind at ease. But I also didn’t want to lie to her. So I offered what I could. “I promise you I’ll try. I promise I’ll fight for love if I experience it—that I won’t run the other way if things get tough. Can that be enough?”