Nobody Ever Talks About Anything but the End: A Memoir by Liz Levine

Author:Liz Levine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography
ISBN: 9781982109332
Publisher: Simon Schuster
Published: 2020-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

INSTINCT

I am not a religious person. I think motivational quotes are bullshit. I do not believe in self-help books, and no amount of wishing or even believing is going to bring you a Lamborghini or a cure for cancer. Despite my cynicism, I believe wholeheartedly in feelings, in connections to people and moments. I believe these relationships have the ability to collapse the boundaries of time and space.

I was connected to Judson.

“Connected” is one of those words whose definition sits just beyond our reach, and although the origin of the adjective is a place I have rarely visited, it seems somehow unwittingly selfish not to attempt it.

When I wake up on the day he is going to die, Vancouver is sunny and warm and it should be raining. I am on the road early and going to make it to work with time to spare. Despite being ahead of the clock, I have the sense I am late for something from the moment I wake up.

I pull into my parking spot with my heart pounding, the blood rushing in my ears.

And then I know.

Connected: to me, to my heart.

I am running to a studio a block away, and I think I left the door of my car unlocked, but it doesn’t matter. The elevator is too slow, so I take the six flights of stairs two at a time. I am still running when I hit the office door and pick up the phone to call the hospital. I finish dialing and can hear nothing but my heart pounding, and I think it might beat right out of my chest.

For the first time in weeks, neither Judson nor Josh answer the phone in his room. A nurse picks up the phone, and I stumble through my request to talk to Judson. Her voice is gentle, apologetic, and I am instantly angry. The stumble is gone. The anger hurls me into action. Get me to him. Transfer me. Now.

The call is transferred.

I fight to keep my voice even as I ask for him again. An RN in ICU makes a call on the other line. I wait on hold, biting back the urge to scream. A nurse transfers me again, “upstairs” this time. For the third time I ask to speak to Judson; it will be the last time I ask for him and expect an answer. They tell me they can only take calls from family. Fighting back the hysteria, I tell them I am family. I ask for Kathy.

Her voice on the line is numb, absent: “We just lost him five minutes ago.”

Five minutes ago. What was I doing five minutes ago? What about ten? What if I had gone back to Toronto on the flight yesterday instead of planning to leave tomorrow? What if they were wrong? What about the plan we had to watch WWF that night with Josh—he had made the plans, and he always stuck to his plan.

Somewhere during those thoughts Kathy passes the phone to Josh.

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