View From Heaven

I'm just so tired, won't you sing me to sleep? And fly through my dreams, so I can hitch a ride with you tonight.

Patrick Sharp smoothed his hands over the soft strawberry blonde hair on his precious girl’s hair, kissing her forehead gently and flicking on her nightlight before disappearing into the hallway.

Six months had passed, and he still wasn’t sleeping quite right - if at all. Every day was the same, wake up, and make breakfast for his giggly little girl. Send her off to school, pick up around the house, make dinner, and put Molly back to bed after entertaining her for a few hours. He was one-eighth the parent Sara was, and he felt like he was constantly letting his five-year-old baby down.

Pausing in front of their bedroom, he stood in the doorway, leaning into the frame and remembering the way her skin felt against his in the morning, when they were both warm from sleep. He could see the lotion she kept on the nightstand, something white that made her smell like cotton hanging from a clothesline on a summer’s afternoon.

He remembered the love they’d made, the precious moments they had spent cuddled up as a tiny family with Molly’s tiny body pressed in between theirs, and the late mornings on Mother’s Day when he and Molly would bring her breakfast in bed.

Continuing on to the spare room he had been sleeping in, he tried again to go through the motions. He pulled his shirt from over his head, dropped his jeans, and roughly rubbed his hands over this face. Lying down in the cold, firm bed, he tried a trick his trainer had recommended to him earlier. He clenched every muscle in his body, starting at his toes and working all the way up past his stomach muscles before he was squeezing his eyes shut. Slowly releasing, he tried it three more times, something that was supposed to guarantee exhaustion.

He laid in the bed another hour before he realized it was useless. Pulling on a pair of loose basketball shorts and his white undershirt before grabbing his car keys off the nightstand. Crawling into his little Mercedes, he rest his head against the driver’s wheel for a moment, remembering how to inhale and exhale before starting up the engine, trying to find his way out of the suburbs as quickly as possible.

Late night drives, all alone in my car, I can't help but start singing lines from all our favorite songs.

He shook his head with a tiny grin as a familiar Regina Spektor song came on over the radio, his lips forming the words he recognized. And for a moment, he remembered her laugh, the way she’s prop up her dainty bare feet on the dash and throw her head back with a delighted giggle. She loved the way he could sing so loudly and dramatically just to make her smile, especially when he’d belt out Celine just for her. A side of Patrick Sharp no one else, not even his closest teammates had ever seen; and a side of Patrick Sharp that his daughter may not even see as well.

Just as soon as she came, she was gone, and he was left alone, dragging the dust behind him as he cranked up the music as loud as the tiny plastic knob allowed him, tears streaming down his cheeks. It wasn’t fair.

And melodies in the air, singin’ life just ain’t fair. Sometimes I still just can’t believe you’re gone.

It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to get sick? Why did she have to go before he could win the cup? Before she could watch their beautiful daughter grow up? He couldn’t do this without her, Molly needed a Mom and at the time, Patrick couldn’t imagine himself with any other woman. He shouldn’t have to do this alone.

He shook his head with a small grin as he looked at the vanilla scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. It was so old, and very obviously didn’t give off an aroma any more, but she had picked it out for him.

”A car like this? You definitely need something tacky to bring it all together!" She joked cutely as she hung it up the day after she surprised him with it, the same day he bought the car as a celebration for renewing his contract with the Blackhawks after so many people were sure he was going to be traded.

Pulling off to the side of the road, the space all around him was relatively clear, a few houses tucked away on the outskirts of the land, but somewhat deserted nonetheless. He got out of the slick little two-door, running another hand through his hair and leaning against the hood of his car, folding his hands behind his head and looking up to the sky.

Sure, he was still rather close to the city, but he never took a single star for granted. Once he had weeded out the airplanes and satellites, his eyes gazed upon the few visible stars, pretending that she was right next to him on the hood, pointing out the constellations and telling him the ridiculous, soap-opera-like stories behind them. She was, after all, an astronomy major. Incredibly smart and wise beyond her years.

And I’m sure the view from heaven beats the hell out of mine here, and if we all believe in heaven, maybe we’ll make through one more year – down here.

Her presence beside him was unbearable, and he slid a hand up the soft cotton of his white tee, resting his hand over his heart as his eyes slipped shut.

Feel your fire, when it’s cold in my heart; and things sort of start reminding me of my last night with you.

”Mommy, watch me!” Molly giggled, running around the beach. It wasn’t sunny out by any means, but the big star made an appearance every few moments or so from behind the foreboding clouds. But they weren’t going to let that ruin their day.

”Good job, baby girl.” Sara smiled weakly. It was a haul to get a wheelchair around the sand, but maybe that’s why God have given Patrick a strong body.

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Patrick asked, fussing over his wife as she gazed lovingly up at him, her warm emerald eyes twinkling up at him with a small laugh. What did you eat for your last meal, anyways?

“I’m fine Patrick.” She rest her hand upon his as it lightly stroked her frail shoulder. “Just enjoy today, would you?” She asked warmly. Molly’s happy giggles pulled them from their thoughts as she let the low tide chase her up and down the sand, clapping her hands excitedly, her soft curls bouncing.

“Daddy is you watching?” She called, holding up a particularly interesting piece of seaweed that she loved.

“I’m always watching.” He winked charmingly, making Molly smile, but his eyes drifted to Sara whose hands were clasped tightly on her lap over the small blanket that was attempting to keep her legs warm.

I only need one more day, just one more chance to say: I wish that I had gone up with you, too.

Patrick’s face crumpled in tears, bringing a hard fist down into the metal of the foreign car as he swung his body forward, dry heaving between his legs over the gravel.

He hated himself for thinking like that, like it would be okay to leave Molly without a Mommy or Daddy, but sometimes, he missed Sara so bad, he was sure it was a fate worse than death.

You won’t be coming back, yeah, I didn’t get to say goodbye. I really wish I got to say goodbye.

”Daddy? I have to potty.” Molly spoke quietly from her father’s lap as they sat at Sara’s bedside. She was resting, quietly napping for now, the excitement from the previous day at the beach had worn her out and she kissed them both gently, Molly on the forehead and Patrick on the lips before she could fall into a light slumber.

“Okay sweetheart, let’s go.” He got up quietly as not to disturb her, bringing her all the way down to the end of the hall and standing just inside the door of the women’s bathroom as she took care of business. That’s when he heard the alarm. “Molly!” He called just as she pushed the door of the stall open.

“But! I have to washes!” She pouted as he grabbed her hand, tugging her down the hallway before lifting her clear off her feet onto his hip as he could already see two nurses in the room they had only just left.

One of the nurses looked up at Patrick sadly while the other attempted to find a pulse on her thin, pale wrist.

“No.” He shook his head. “We were only gone for a few moments! She was just napping!” He began to shout as Molly’s eyes began to fill with tears. “She was fine a few minutes ago! She was fine!” He began to scream, cheeks pink as a mixture of rage and utmost pain filled him. “She was fine!” He repeated over and over as a scared little girl trembled in his arms as he bumped into the wall behind him, sliding down it and curling himself around her as they sobbed together.

I hope that all is well in heaven, cause it’s all shot to hell down here. I hope that I find you in heaven, cause I’m so… lost without you down here.

Patrick attempted to compose himself after a few minutes of bawling so hard, his gut began to wrench under his flesh. He needed to get home to Molly. He needed to get home before he did something stupid.

The ride home was silent. No radio, and no fond memories to keep him company. It wasn’t the first time he had made the drive, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

The house was quiet, and Patrick was emotionally and physically exhausted. His eyes were swollen from the salty tears and he hoped that it would be enough to get him to fall asleep at least for a few hours.

The same thought circulated over and over as he crawled into the guest bed once again, the sheets still cold and unfamiliar.

I really wish I got to say goodbye.