I've always had a deep love for butterflies. They are one of the most beautiful creatures to grace this earth. Not only do I love to watch them, I love chasing after them. I've never cared about looking like a fool. When I was a kid I would spend hours outside just running after butterflies. Now it's a little different. As I sit here, confined to the limits of my hospital room I wonder if I'll ever be able to get back to living the thrill of chasing a butterfly. A little over a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I've been doing all the treatments. All the chemo. Luckily my hair has been holding up pretty okay so far. But, my cancer was unfortunately caught too late. Which means, I get to spend some of the most vital years of my life in an uncomfortable bed. How fun. I've come to accept the fact that at this point, my life is basically over. I'm gonna die eventually either way, but my cancer is speeding up the process for me. There are so many things I haven't got to do yet. Like, learn how to swim. I've always been too scared to swim. Fear of drowning and all. But I feel like now would be the perfect time to learn how to swim! I either learn how to swim now and die later with the knowledge that I learned how to swim or die trying!
"Atlas, honey!"
My mom calls to me as she barges into my room. She's carrying a large bouquet of purple carnations scattered in white plastic butterflies.
"These..."
she takes a card out of her pocket,
"...are from your YiaYia. She says hi."
My mom gives me a smile out of pity as she hands me the card and gently places the bouquet on my side table. I appreciate how she focuses on appreciating me while I'm here rather than hysterically crying on me.
"Oh, okay. Can you message her and let her know I said thank you?"
"Of course, dear. I'll go get a vase for those."
Once she leaves, I open up the card that says "GET WELL SOON!" written on the front in bold letters. A $50 bill falls out of it. In the card it reads,
"To my favorite grandson, I hope this letter finds you well. I'm deeply sorry I can't be there with you. I promise I will come back to you soon. You should come visit me here in Greece sometime! I hope you're getting to do everything you've wanted to. If not, consider a bucket list! Then ask your mother if you can go out and be a teenager for once. With much love, your YiaYia."
You would think a Greek grandmother would be, you know, really Greek, but she is honestly the most American YiaYia I've seen. After reading her card, I began to consider her suggestion. A bucket list? That could be fun. I'll just write a long list of all the things I want to do with the time I have left then ask my mom if she would be willing to let me go out and do them. She's probably going to stick an Apple AirTag into my shoe or something but it's worth the freedom. I lean over and begin rummaging through all the junk I have in the drawers of my side table. After finding a lot of gum wrappers and a piece of candy, I finally found a piece of paper and a pen. I hoist myself into a comfortable sitting position and begin to ponder. What are some things that I absolutely need to do before I die? While deep in thought, my mom re-enters my room with a heavy looking vase in her arms. She sets down the vase to put the flowers in and spots my pen and paper.
"What you got there, Las?"
Las is a nickname only my parents use for me.
"Oh, I'm going to make a bucket list. YiaYia suggested that I make one and I figured, why not? Maybe you could even let me do some of the things I write on here."
"Ha! As if I would let you out on your own."
"Momm, come on! I really don't want to be trapped in this room forever. It sucks here."
After a brief pause, my mother begins to speak again.
"...Okay. But you have to promise me to keep your location on! And, if you meet anyone out there, you have to let me know. ALSO (she practically yells this)...you have to show me the things on your bucket list so that I can have a general idea of the kinds of things you want to do, maybe I can help you find some places to go."
I stare at her for a moment.
"Wait, actually?"
She laughs sweetly, the way she does when she's baking and starts making a mess with the flour.
"Yes Las. I want you to have fun. That's what life is for. Oh, one more thing, if you meet a girl out there make sure to introduce her to me."
She's sitting on the bed with me now, as she shoots me a sly wink.
"Okay, yeah sure mom. Though the probability that that happens is very slim."
"Don't be silly, there's always a chance."
She leans in to give me a kiss of the forehead.
"Mom."
"Sorry sorry! I know you're too old for that now. Now get to writing! That bucket isn't going to fill itself!"
YOU ARE READING
Butterflies
Genç Kurgu[IN PROGRESS, will try to get new chapters out every/every other Friday.] Atlas was diagnosed with cancer. Despite the depression that comes with the knowledge of his unfortunate departure, he writes a bucket list filled with things he wishes to do...
