Choosing Us

Part II: Bye for Now

I slammed the door shut after I got into my car at the hospital parking deck. My mother did not want to leave my father's side, and I wanted to give them some space. So I said that I needed to return home to work on some homework which was quickly supported and encouraged by my father. As I turned the key to the ignition, I remembered not having had the radio on during my earlier commute to the hospital with my mother. Rapidly, I turned the radio on and threw the volume to the loudest level I had ever placed it. I needed to hear or feel something beyond my surprise and hurt. My ears were greeted with the sounds of a care-free Ukulele and a boy singing words, "And when your father turns to stone, will you take care of me?" My heart almost shattered. I had heard the song countless times previously. It was House of Gold by twenty one pilots. I knew the words, but it had never hurt to hear it before. The realization of not knowing what the future held and not having the control or ability to do anything about it. Tears streamed down my face. My fingers curled around the steering wheel as I gripped tightly and even painfully. I was okay with the pain. I almost needed it. Finally, the song ended and a woman singing about boys always going for the wrong girls entered. I couldn't imagine a prior  time where I had even cared about getting the attention of someone. Yes, it was my birthday, and I had gained a year, but I felt that after today's events- I had aged a decade in two hours. I place the gear in reverse and turned my head in all directions to ensure that no one was coming. The last thing I needed was to get into a car accident. I slowly backed my car until I was able to drive forward towards my journey home. I put on music from when I was a kid that my parents told me was "too dark" or "not lady-like." Laughing at how perspectives change, I hit replay to Bring Me to Life by Evanescence. My eyebrows wrinkled with feeling as I began to nod my head with the music and the pain portrayed by Amy Lee. 

As I pulled my car into my parking spot within my family's driveway, I looked down at my phone to 7 text messages and 5 missed calls from my Liv. I sighed and laid my head on my steering wheel. I knew that I needed to tell her but the idea of the words coming out of my mouth made me nauseous. I instructed my phone to call Liv. I repeated the prognosis and details as if I was a recording of one of the nurses within my father's room. Liv, being the truly amazing friend that she is, sounded as sad and hurt by the news as I was. She did her best to inspire courage and hope in the treatment and care that would be offered, but I continued to feel numb. I told her that I needed to go and would talk to her later. I didn't have anything that I actually needed to do, but I couldn't be on the phone one more second. I tossed my shoes off as ungracefully as one could. I then fell onto my bed face down. I did not even have the energy to cry, to think, to talk. I only existed. I had no recollection of having fallen asleep, but when I woke up with my bedroom light still on, I knew some how I had. I looked at my cellphone and the time read: 3:13am. My mother had sent me a text saying that she would be spending the night with my father and to make sure to take care of our dog. I responded that I had it taken care of. 

I slowly got out of bed and looked for Charlie, our 7 year old golden retriever. I went over to him and began rubbing him. He was slowly stirring out of a sleepy haze. His eyes met mine and he began wagging his tail. I, then, took him outside and made sure his food and water bowls were plentiful. I then sat on the kitchen floor with my back to a cabinet. Charlie may not have been the most intelligent dog, but he knew when you were upset. He walked over and sat next to me and put his paw on my arm. I leaned over and hugged him tightly. 

Over the next few days, I went to school as usual, but home-life was anything but normal. I spent nights alone as my mother was with my father and going back and forth from our house to grab things as needed. There was limited interaction between my parents and I due to a frustrating trend of phone tag. I knew my parents were, of course, preoccupied with the health and well-being of my father, and I felt that my parents quickly, perhaps out of necessity, became comfortable with the idea of me caring for myself and being alone due to my maturity and track record of reliable behavior. This was confirmed when I returned from school on a Thursday afternoon to see a letter. It was in my mother's handwriting. 

Hey honey, 

I was hoping to see you and tell you this in person, but we had to leave this morning as there was an opening at a hospital in New York with a specialist. I don't know how long we will be gone, but we need you to hold down the fort. We know we may be asking a lot of you, but if there was ever a kid who could handle it- it was you. We love you so much!

The note was signed "mom and dad." I placed the note exactly where I had found it and slid down to the floor. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness and fear was more than I could take. The thought that continued to circulate within my head, "I didn't even get to say goodbye to them, hug them, or anything..." I hugged my legs and placed my forehead on my knees. I heard a whimper near me, and I raised my head to see Charlie tilting his head as his eyes met mine. "Charlie, we are going to be okay. We have each other. It's just bye for now."