Just As I Am

Ten

I had so much fun which I hadn't had in a very long time. Dad won the eating contest. I feel so stuffed up, like I won't feel hungry again. After the picnic, we took a walk. I wish this day would never end. These were one of the rare moments I spent with Dad and it felt so magical. Unfortunately, the day did come to an end. While we were on our way home, Dad said something which really surprised me.

"I really had fun today", Dad said.

"Me too", I said.

"I think we should do this again sometime".

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

Dad nodded and I hugged him.

I was surprised when I went to school that everyone talked about my birthday party. Something fishy was going on. A girl walked up to me and told me that my birthday party was awesome.

"Too bad you couldn't make it. I heard you were sick", a girl standing next to her said.

I knew who was up to all this. They were sitting on the benches at the parking lot. I walked up to them.

"Karen! I heard you were sick and couldn't make it to your own birthday party. You missed a lot! Anyways, how are you? I heard you were sick", Melissa said.

"I'm fine, thank you. What did you do?" I asked.

"Nothing much. I just told everyone your birthday party was at my house".

I couldn't understand how people could be so gullible.

"I told you I would make your life miserable, Karen".

"So making my life miserable includes sabotaging my birthday party. I'm so depressed and my life is so miserable", I said sarcastically.

"This is only the beginning, Karen".

I rolled my eyes as they walked away and I got into my car and headed home. 

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I saw Dad sitting in his study. I knocked on the door and entered. Dad was busy as usual. 

"Hey, Dad", I said, taking a seat across from him.

"Karen, I'm busy", Dad said.

He didn't even say hi to me.

"Dad, you've worked all week. Can we go and take a walk or something?"

"Karen, I told you I'm busy. I'm preparing a sermon for tomorrow:.

"Dad, you've had five days to prepare".

"I'm just finishing up, Karen".

"You can finish after the walk. When do we get to spend time together? We only spent time together on my birthday. You even said we should do it again".

"Karen, I only did that because it was your birthday. Right now I'm busy".

"Please?' I pleaded, giving Dad the poutiest face I could make. I knew he couldn't resist it. 

"Fine", Dad said and got up from his desk.

"Yaay! I won!" I said, giving Dad a playful pat on the back.

He playfully ruffled my hair and we got into his blue Toyota Camry.

Our walk didn't last very long, but it was worth it. We talked and laughed. It felt like old times. The times before Mum died. We decided to eat at a fast-food restaurant just before going home. We took our seats and ordered our food. We talked some more while we ate. Just in front of us sat a young couple with two little children. Tears started forming at my eyelids. It's been four years, Karen. Four years!  I scolded myself.

I don't know why I still kept thinking about Mum after seeing therapists, psychologists and counselors. It was normal to think about Mum once in a while, but I thought about her all the time. Especially when I watched movies or saw pictures showing a family. Even when I actually saw a family like the young couple with their two little children. It just reminded me of how incomplete my family was without my mum.

At first, therapists advised me to avoid movies and books that contained such content. It was very difficult, as you can imagine. I couldn't avoid such things in real life, like the situation I found myself in right now. Therapists also told me it was part of the grief process. This grief process has taken me four years! I know a lot of people whose close friends or relatives have died, and they're fine. Maybe, I'm not normal. That is why this so-called "grief process" has taken me four years. I don't understand why I still haven't gotten over it.

"Karen, are you alright?" Dad's voice broke my train of thoughts.

I nodded. I followed my dad's gaze to my plate of food and realised that I had eaten very little.  Dad followed my gaze and he looked from the couple to me and then back to the couple again. 

"Karen! I thought you were over this!" Dad shouted, bringing attention to our table.

"It's not my fault, Dad. You think you're so perfect and you've handled this whole grief thing so well. I know that you've become a workaholic as a way to stop thinking about Mum".

"Karen, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sixteen, Dad, not six. I know what's going on, Dad. You've changed ever since Mum died and I don't like the "workaholic Dad". I miss the old Dad, the one who always had time here. You know what? I think coming here was a big mistake", I said, leaving the restaurant before Dad could catch up with me.

"Karen, wait!" Dad called out, but I ignored him.

Unfortunately, Dad caught up with me outside.

"Karen. That's the only way I know how to deal with this depression", Dad told me.

"Okay, If that's your way of dealing with depression, I'll find another way that doesn't include being a workaholic", I told Dad and walked away, tears pouring down my face.

David Waldman watched his daughter's retreating back with sadness. All that his daughter had said earlier on was true. He had become a workaholic and stressed himself out just as his way of dealing with the depression that was eating him up daily. He knew that he needed to get help, and get help soon.