Evelyn at the end.

Evelyn awoke in an unfamiliar bed to light streaming through the window, dance music playing in another room, and knew immediately the truth – she had died.

Moments ago, she had been at home after a courageous battle with ovarian cancer surrounded by her children and grandchildren at age 89. A long, beautiful, interesting life; Evelyn knew how lucky she had been to find love, to raise children, to have a career, and to have more memories that included laughter than tears. She had the blessing to say goodbye to those whom needed to hear it to continue through the journey of life.

Evelyn sat up with no pain and an odd feeling of relief.  Blissful acceptance washed over her and she could finally appreciate that she had done all that was needed in her living life so that her kids were going to be okay. The memories they had shared together would be enough to carry them through. This had been her biggest worry at the end, but her shoulders relaxed- all of her seemed to relax with the innate understanding that they were going to be all right without her.

The light streaming in the window blocked out any other view, but Evelyn was less concerned about the outside as she was drawn to the door where the music floated to her on a wave. She glided over and gently turned the knob to open to a wide ballroom that was filled with soft light and melodic dance music. As Evelyn’s eyes adjusted, they widened with the understanding of where she was and with whom upon her death.

They were all there. All the Evelyns, from all her life, at all her various ages. She glanced around the ballroom looking at each one, recognizing each laugh line and freckle because it was one that she had watched evolve over all of her life in the bathroom mirror after applying her nightly moisturizer before bed and calling out to her husband at 38 years old, “Leo, sometimes I don’t even recognize myself in this reflection!”

There was the 23 year old Evelyn who lived in New York City teaching inner city students how to find the main idea in a paragraph. She was so thin from all that walking and living on her own in a Brooklyn apartment eating mostly toast for dinner. Full of passion and big dreams, she was armed with a subway pass, four dollars, and a coloring page in her bag signed in crayon with the name of her favorite second grader, Anthony.

There was 14 year old Evelyn who was looking around like she was waiting for something to happen. Life was always moving too slowly for her and she could never wait to grow older until exciting, real things would happen to her. She still had her hair purposely down and in front of her face. She wanted to be noticed but also froze at anyone actually noticing her. She had chapstick in the back pocket of her jean shorts and was dreaming of the day that she would have enough things to keep in a purse.

The Evelyns aged 6 to 12 were grouped together in a circle dancing and giggling to the music. They danced with abandon, with their eyes closed and heads back. The music seemed to fill their veins and no matter how silly their dance moves, there was nothing to do but smile as you watched them because they moved in the relaxed and careless rhythm of knowing your whole life still stretched out before you.

Someone pushed past Evelyn as she was running toward the dancing circle. The runner looked back and smiled with a big missing-two-front -teeth grin while apologizing. Evelyn called back, “it’s okay” to that 7 year old Evelyn.

Evelyn at 38 who had five children was sitting close and encouragingly rubbing the back of Evelyn at 29 who had a toddler, and a newborn and dark bags under her defeated eyes.

Evelyn at 58 looked lost and vacant in the middle; as though she couldn’t see or hear anything else in the ballroom. That Evelyn had lost her own mother and father only four months apart that year. There was only one Evelyn next to 58 year old Evelyn, it was Evelyn at 86 who had lost her husband of 61 years. Her eyes were lost too, but there was something there; a fullness and a hint of gratitude for a life of memories with a partner who carried the burdens and shared the joys.

Evelyn at 20 who was fresh back from her study abroad in Scotland was recounting every detail to a star struck 16 year old Evelyn in a corner booth over a shared order of loaded fries. Evelyn at 25 - the newlywed - was talking excitedly with Evelyn at 24 who was planning her wedding while sipping fruity drinks at the bar. A weeping Evelyn at 34 with the new kindergartener was hugging tightly to a weeping Evelyn at 46 with the high school senior. Evelyn at 62 was rocking and kissing the head of newborn Evelyn with tears in her eyes; she had learned that her youngest daughter had miscarried that year.

Evelyn- the real Evelyn- the Evelyn of 89 wobbled and weaved through all the Evelyns of her life. She smiled and nodded at them as she passed and recognized each of them. There were Evelyns who lived through the best years of her life and Evelyns who had endured some of the worst, most devastating moments. They were all there, even her – the Evelyn who had made it all the way through life.

She looked over them, all there together in one space. They were the only person who had gone through that one precious life with her; every step, every good morning and good night, every meal, every kiss, every tear, every memory.

She did the only thing there was left to do. She started with the Evelyn right in front of her – 17 year old Evelyn with puppy dog-love eyes for her high school boyfriend and the words “History vocab test” ink pen tattooed on her hand – she pulled her in close for a hug and whispered “Thank you.”