Destined

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When I was young and people asked me what my favorite holiday of the year was, I would always say Christmas. Then they'd ask me why I liked Christmas. It was an easy question. People would give you anything that you liked, wanted or needed. Now that Christmas is just around the corner, I couldn't find the least bit of giddiness or excitement that I used to feel way back then. 

These past few weeks, I was settled in the confines of Tim's private room in the ward or in the ICU when things got out of hand. I couldn't even find time to groom myself the way that I used to. I would end up wearing a random shirt and pants paired with flats and my university sweatshirt over it. My hair would be tied in a loose ponytail or in a tight bun when I feel too irritated or annoyed with something. 

Thinking about the season of giving, I thought about what I'd trade for Tim to be with me for the rest of our lives. We should have been planning for our wedding by now. But as I look at him, all frail and almost lifeless on his bed with a lot of tubes attached to his body, I suddenly think that giving up this battle would be the most convenient and easiest way to end the pain and suffering.

Luckily today, everything seemed normal. I got a book out and started to read just to get my mind out of things when I suddenly heard a muffled voice calling out my name. It was Tim. He was trying to tell me to come near his bed. I stood near him and reached for the board and pen on his bedside table. He couldn't talk anymore since he has this tube in his mouth that prohibits him to talk.

"What is it, babe?" I asked as he tried to scribble his note on the board.

He gave me the board for me to read the message. It said, "Get the envelope in the drawer."

I turned towards the bedside table and opened the drawer to get the envelope that he was asking for. I gave the board to him again for the next instruction.

"Read what the paper says" were his words. I grabbed the chair and pulled it nearer to his bed. As I sat down, I read the contents of the letter ending up with a face of confusion. It enclosed my inheritance of a house that Tim bought a couple of months ago before he found out about having cancer.

"This is a letter enclosing inheritance, Tim. Why are you giving this to me? You're not yet dead!" I was beyond being comforted. Why was he acting this way? There was still some sort of miracle that we can hope to see, right? Was he already giving up on the fight?

"I want you to take care of our house when I'm gone" was his response on the board.

"But we're not done with the fight yet, right? We still can hope for a miracle Tim!"

He shook his head gently as a tear fell on his cheek. Was he hurting now? I abruptly stood up and hovered over him as he continued to write on the board.

"I'm tired of fighting, Cal. I'm tired. I can't anymore."

I looked at the man that  I loved. He was already giving up and he was crying because he couldn't take the pain anymore. I was at a loss of words. Most of the people who went through with this kind of situation didn't want to hear those words. I sobbed so hard with my head leaning on the side of the bed. I couldn't take this anymore.

Weeping was my only defense this time. I can't help but wail in my helplessness. This man shouldn't have been given this kind of cross. He shouldn't have had this kind of illness. He should be in his office working for me and our future and for the people that he loved dearly. There were other worthless people out there who deserved this kind of suffering. Was this even called fairness!

Angst was the only word that I could put into what I was feeling now. I didn't think that I'd come across this kind of feeling again. The last time that I felt this was when I nearly fought with my professor who accidentally failed me in the finals. I had to fight through that and came out the victor.