{"id":1387,"date":"2019-08-15T01:48:45","date_gmt":"2019-08-15T01:48:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/?p=1387"},"modified":"2019-08-06T16:12:10","modified_gmt":"2019-08-06T16:12:10","slug":"when-the-swell-breaks-by-holly-garcia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/2019\/08\/15\/when-the-swell-breaks-by-holly-garcia\/","title":{"rendered":"When the Swell Breaks by Holly Garcia"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Holly lives on the Texas Coast with her husband, teenage son, and three giant dogs. Her adult daughter just moved out, so she must have had her when she was ten. When she isn\u2019t writing, Holly works full time as a corporate photographer. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n


When the Swell Breaks<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This\nwasn\u2019t how I planned to spend my thirty-ninth birthday, but here I am.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve\nlived a good life, I think. I never finished getting my degree, but I have a\njob I love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Loved.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My\nhome isn\u2019t a mansion, but it\u2019s comfortable and enough. Two children, one of\neach, boy and girl. Check and check. Loving husband, check.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019s\nstanding in the hospital corridor now, talking with two of the doctors while\nI\u2019m supposed to be sleeping. His eyes swing towards the room, and through the\nhatched lines on the window I can see his face. The last few months have aged\nhim, taken him to that place you can never return from. He doesn\u2019t look surprised\nthat I am awake.  I know it\u2019s time. We\u2019ve\nknown for a few weeks now, that this is the best option, and I\u2019ve already said\ngoodbye to the kids. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At\nfirst I was selfish, and heartbroken that they might not remember me. They\u2019re\nonly two and three years old. But after I had more time to think about it, I\nhope they don\u2019t<\/em> remember me. Not like\nthis. This sterile hospital room with beeping machines and harsh lights,\ndrowning everyone who enters in its sea of hopelessness.  Away from all of this, and maybe years from\nnow, they\u2019ll be ok.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But\nWilliam, sweet William. He\u2019ll remember every bit of it, I know him like the back\nof my hand. He was such a joyful man, and I\u2019ve taken that from him. Me, and\nthis damn tumor that they said would keep growing, taking over my brain like a\nparasite until I wouldn\u2019t know who I was anymore. Machines could keep me alive\nfor a little while, but I don\u2019t want that for William, or for the kids. They\nneed to be able to move on, and one day they will. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not\ntoday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

William\ncomes into the room with a doctor close behind him. The one who has never done\nthis before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s\nit going to be then, eh?\u201d I try to smile but the weight of it all pushes the\nedges of my lips downward. My voice shakes. \u201cMiracle cure or sleep potion?\u201d I\nknow there is no cure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ignoring\nthe question, William lowers the bed rail and climbs in next to me, holding me\nin his arms. We stare at each other and the swell breaks, pushing tears down\nboth of our faces. He places his hands on either side of my face and kisses me\nsoftly. I don\u2019t want to go. I want to stay here with him forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\nturn to the doctor and nod.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Holly lives on the Texas Coast with her husband, teenage son, and three giant dogs. Her adult daughter just moved out, so she must have had her when she was ten. When she isn\u2019t writing, Holly works full time as a corporate photographer. When the Swell Breaks This wasn\u2019t how I planned to spend my … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1387","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pa867U-mn","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1387","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1387"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1387\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1390,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1387\/revisions\/1390"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1387"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1387"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1387"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}