When I Die [Wattys 2016]

Chapter 36: The Last Birthday

The day before my birthday, my mom took me shopping for new clothes. Reid told her about the birthday party request, I was sure. I tried on jeans and shirts until I had hardly any energy left. She insisted on more and more stores. We wandered around for hours.
"Mom," I groaned, "Can we go? I don't want this to be what takes me out."
She rolled her eyes and held up two bow ties to her neck.
"Which one?"
They were both a turquoise color, one may have been slightly lighter in shade.
"Are you serious? Those are identical."
"Pick one."
"The left one."
She sighed and looked disappointed,
"What?" I scoffed.
"I like the right one."
"Okay then the right one."
"Great, it will look perfect on you!" She exclaimed, putting it in the cart. I laughed to myself. She was so chipper and sometimes it really got to me.
I groaned as she pulled me from one store to the next. My lungs had started off okay that day, but all the exertion made it difficult to keep going.
By the end of the outing, we had three new pairs of jeans, two button-up t-shirts, a new pair of Chuck Taylor's and a turquoise bow-tie.
Everything fit perfectly. I'd gotten down in weight again, a few inches smaller than before the cancer. As we sat in the food court, my mom and I absentmindedly watched some carefree high schoolers that I knew vaguely, as they walked through the mall laughing with one another, shopping bags in hands.
I thought about how fast things changed for me often.
It was late April. At the beginning of the school-year, I was excited about everything. I was still dating May. I was going to go to college. My biggest stressor was honors classes.
Now, just 9 months later, I was looking out at the next 6 months with a mix of despair and fear. The next 6 months would not mean that I got to graduate, or go to school, or move out. They would now mean that I got more and more dependent on everyone around me to keep me comfortable. I took in a deep breath and, despite the constant rattling in my lungs, realized that this was as good as it would get for me. I was, right now, at the peak. It was nothing but downhill from here.
Now, I'd never claimed to be an optimist. I tended to think of myself as a realist, but they're almost exactly the same when you consider how shitty the universe is in reality.
I never liked to wear rose-colored glasses in regards to anything. I knew things were bad, that wasn't being a pessimist, but a realist.
My mom noticed me looking at the teens and I supposed I had a pensive look on my face.
"Ready to go?"
She squeezed my arm and offered a comforting smile.

We left the mall and headed back home. I was exhausted and nodded off in the car. Before the cancer, I never could sleep in the car without getting carsick. Now, I was great at it.

My lungs rattled and my hip popped as I walked up the yard to the house. I looked back down the steps at my mom who stood in the yard behind me, and I knew she saw the old familiar look of pain across my face. I tried to hide it from her normally. I could tell she saw it by the way she looked back at me.

The next day, I woke up to several screaming people in my face.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!"

My eyes shot open.
Lots of people.
Aaron, Lara, baby Leo, Sam, Hattie, Mom and Dad, Reid, Myra, and my grandmother were standing over me.
It took me a long second to understand what was happening and who all was there.
I sat up, squeezing my eyes shut and rubbed them.

"Wow, good morning," I yawned.

They began singing happy birthday and I cringed at the attention. Then they held out birthday pancakes in front of me, whipped cream spelling out something resembling "happy birthday!", but it was so messy I couldn't really read it without deductive reasoning. I was sure Reid did it.
My grandmother was the big surprise. I hadn't seen her since I was diagnosed. She lived in Maine and very rarely made it over. My mom had sent her photos and videos, and my cousin Jeremy even taught her how to Skype so she could see me. I don't think that even all that prepared her for the sight of me in person. I was completely different than how I started out. My hair grew back in dark brown tufts, no more auburn. My skin was pale, no longer tan. I'd lost weight and my cheeks were sunken in.
"Oh, Leo, it's so lovely to see you, sweetheart," she said. She leaned in and grabbed my face and pulled me into a hug. She kissed both of my cheeks, smearing lipstick all over me.
I squinted.
"Good to see you too, Gran."
I yawned again.
"Leo, sweetie. You gotta get up and get dressed. You have a big day ahead of you," my mom said.