like pennies clanking
into the bottom of my
grandfather's mason jar
the seconds fade into minutes
and oceans of seconds
have been swept away
slowly and quickly and all at once
and i still try to remember
what grandfather told me
but like minutes and hours and days goneby
his words are fading
and so are my memories
February 16, 2015
Disaster always strikes when life finally becomes bearable. I've just been managing to get my feet under me, to learn how to cope with oppressive emotions of fear and despair, to face pain and heartache with steady resolve.
It's funny that a year and a half ago, when I was first starting school, I would have considered myself strong--tenacious, unshakable, dauntless. This last year has stolen every vestige of courage and emotional endurance I thought I had. I am just waiting for the straw that breaks the camel's back to finally crush me.
Now the straw has finally fallen. I am finally shattered. I am crushed.
A few minutes ago, Dad called.
"Hello, Rachel." His gentle tone should have told me everything.
"Hey, Dad," I answered, tossing my textbook aside and standing up to pace about the room. "What's going on?"
"Rachel, sweet pea, I need to tell you something."
That was when it hit me. Gramps.
"Dad?" I asked, my voice quavering.
"Your grandpa isn't doing well. He passed out this evening, and when we took him to the hospital, they realized the cancer has moved from his liver to his lungs. They're prepping him for surgery now, but he still hasn't woken up." Dad sighed into the phone.
I collapsed to the floor. No. Not now. This wasn't right, he still had time.
"Dad..." I whispered, voice barely audible, "Dad, is he...is he going to wake up?"
"We don't know, honey."
"I'm...I'm coming home, Dad. I'm driving home tonight. I'll...I'll find a way. Just..." The tears started to fall, and I couldn't control my staggered breath. "Just tell Gramps to hold on. I'll be there soon."
Now I hold the phone in my hand, my entire body a quivering mass. I haven't moved since I ended the call five minutes ago, paralyzed by fear and sorrow. This could be the end. I know I need to get up, I need to call for help, I need to do something, but I can't even process Dad's words. I've cognitively known that something could happen to Gramps while I'm gone, that he could even pass away, but now that the end is near, it seems too sudden.
I pull my knees to my chest and bury my head in my hands, digging my fingernails into my temples as if physical pain can somehow detract from my emotional distress. I don't know how long I've been sitting here, but the tears have stopped, leaving rivulets of dried salt down my cheeks.
I need to go home. I need to see Gramps before it's too late.
I stand up and run a hand through my hair, inhaling a shaky breath. It's a five hour drive home to Pennsylvania, and my car is still out of commission. I can't call Jordan for help because she's on a bio trip for the weekend. Chloe uses public transportation, and she's busy tonight. AJ. He's only an hour away. I don't know whether or not I can rely on him, but I have no one else to turn to.
With an unsteady hand, I pull up his number and press call.
"Hey, Rach."
"AJ...AJ, I need your help. Gramps is really bad, and I have to get home," I catch my breath, tears in my eyes as I await his response.
YOU ARE READING
The Definition of Time
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