Loving Olivia

Chapter 12 - Breathe

Olivia

The first thing that always hits me is the scent. Nursing homes have a distinctive smell, much like hospitals do. But this one is different. It's finite, terminal. At least in hospitals, people can recover and get better. But in nursing homes, people only get worse. It's their last stop before they leave us. If sickness and death ever had a scent, this would be it.

"He had a heart attack."

Andres's words keep repeating in my head as we walk toward my dad's room. This isn't the first time he's had one. It's happened before. I remember when he got his first stent placed. I thought that would be it. I thought the heart could only handle one. Now he has three.

Even though I know what to expect, my legs tremble once I see him lying asleep in bed. I've been here before, I've seen him hooked up to the machines more times than I care to remember. I should be used to it. But I'm not.

My mother stands up to hug us. She looks so exhausted. I can't imagine how tired she must be after being on call all weekend at the hospital and now dealing with this.

I feel a wave of emotion surge through me, but I stop it before it breaks. I know how to control it now. Happy thoughts, my mom used to tell us. My happy thoughts always involved times before my dad got sick and they would in turn make me feel sad, so I stopped thinking about them. Now I just think about how I need to stay strong for my mom. I don't want to make it worse for her by crying. It's easier to stay numb. Once you start to feel, once you cross that line, it's impossible to shut off, and there's simply no return.

We all pull up a chair and sit down with my father. I hold on to his hand. It feels cold, like it usually does. Sometimes it's hard to still imagine him as my father. As he used to be. Sitting on his shoulders as a child, watching him build the deck of our old house, fishing for hours until there was nobody left but us. The man I see now is not the same. It's almost as if he were a different person. And he would be if not for the memories. It's easy to lose sight of them when all I have to think of is this.

Time also feels different in a nursing home. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing ever seems to really happen. People whisper through the hallways, a nurse will stop by every now and then, and some game show is on TV. Repeat times infinity.

"You look different," my mom tells me after a while of being here.

I look at her puzzled, wondering what she's referring to. I don't look or feel any different than I normally do. "How?"

"I don't know, lighter," she responds.

"Really?" I shrug. If she only knew about the things I'd been thinking.

"It's a boy, isn't it?" she asks, completely surprising me.

How in the world ...

I immediately look towards Andres, but he's busy with his phone. If he heard my mom right now, he doesn't acknowledge it.

I glance back at my mom, and she's actually smiling. I don't confirm it out loud, but my expression must have given it away.

"Ay, Olivia. I'm so happy for you," she says warmly.

Andres stands up right then. "Ma, do you want coffee?" he asks her.

"Sí, hijo. Gracias," she responds.

He nods and quickly leaves the room. I sigh, thankful he's given me some privacy for this.

"So, tell me about him. What's his name?" she asks excitedly.

"Ma, really? I don't think it's the best time to talk about this," I tell her.

"Olivia, por favor. This is the best news I've heard in months. Tell me."