Valid Weaknesses ||Completed|| #Wattys2017

Chapter 14

Genesis

So it's Saturday! yeaahhhhhhh....

I like Saturdays! Saturdays are the days where you are like, I don't have to get up and I can lie in bed until one in the afternoon if I like. Actually I can stay in bed as long as I want every day because it's the holidays.

But the thing I also notice on Saturday mornings, I wake up extremely early! Like my brain thinks its school and panics so I wake up around 7. Does anyone else have that?

Also, the seagulls or the occasional pigeon don't even care if it's a Saturday, they will make sure to sit on your chimney and quake as loud as their murderous beaks can.

Gosh, the seagulls are crazy where I live. I saw this seagull take off to this little happy old man and steal his chips out of this hand. The little happy old man then turned into a little angry old man.

A few minutes before, I saw this family with young kids feeding the seagulls even though there was a sign saying 'DO NOT FEED THE BIRDS.' But whatever, it's their own fault that the seagull bit the little kid's thumb, even though I felt so sorry for the little cutie afterwards.

I think I would be too scared to feed a bird again because last time, it happened. It looked like Jack the Ripper was about to take a chunk out of me with a machete.

"Earth to Genii."

"What?"

"You zoned out." He says, steering my face towards the screen. "We have three more of these to go."

"Dad." I whine, pushing back in my chair a bit. "Can we like just not watch these?"

He stays silent, focusing on the screen. His face is a canvas full of colorful emotions though.

"I get that you miss her." I begin slowly. "I mean I do too but we can't keep doing this."

"I feel like I can barely remember."

"Huh?"

"Vanessa." He says, referring to my mum. "With each year that passes I feel like the memory gets even more slippery, sliding out of my reach. Don't you get it Gennii?" he asks, looking close to tears. "She was your mum and we both love you but she was my wife; the love of my life and I just seem to be forgetting her."

"Oh Dad." I coo, getting up so I can seat closer to him. "It's okay. You can't keep doing this."

"It's been five years today Gen." he says, speaking more to himself than his teenaged daughter who sits comforting him even though she's also hurting.

This is the only reason I dread Christmas holidays, I mean, on the one hand, I'll be all happy, celebrating the end of school and the birth of our savior who died especially to save me but on the other hand?

Well, on the other hand is today, the day Vanessa White died five years ago. The day my dad lost his soulmate and I lost the best mother in the world. The day our lives seemed to fall apart. The day I realized how much my mum meant to both of us and that if I don't appear strong for dad, even though he tries, he will most certainly fall apart. That day is today.

I remember this day five years ago like it was yesterday. You know, whenever I tell people how my mum died, it gets a bit awkward because it usually sounds like I'm kidding.

I mean, think about it. How would you react if I we talked and I went, "She died shoveling snow"

See? That's what I thought. It did happen though; For real.

It was a particularly frigid winter morning when mum walked into the kitchen in her jammers, saying hello to dad and I who were busily shoveling lucky charms into our mouths. Dad's actually responsible for my addiction to them.

"Is that really my lawn?" she'd freaked once her gaze travelled outside. And she had good reason to as well because it was piled high with snow.

"No need to worry." Dad replied between spoonfuls. "I'll get to it soon enough."

"No I'll do it." She'd replied. "You should take a break from doing all the tasking chores."

"Honey." Dad had said, abandoning his spoon. "Are you sure about this? I mean I don't think it's such a good idea given your cholesterol and everything."

"Let dad do it mum." I'd added for good measure. I didn't want my mother getting hurt by any means.

She'd chuckled then, pulling on her jacket; stubborn and free spirited as she was. "Don't worry your little heads you two." She'd smiled. "It's only a bit a snow."

Thinking back now, I wish I had done everything I could to stop her that morning. I would have locked the front door, shoveled it myself, and even tackled her to the ground if I had known; anything to keep her alive because it wasn't just a bit of snow.

It was a bit of snow that killed her.

"You see when people shovel snow, their heart rate and blood pressure increase more than when they exercise on a treadmill. Combine this with cold air, which causes arteries to constrict and decrease blood supply and you have a perfect storm for a heart attack."

That's what the doctor had said when he came to inform us that we'd lost her forever. I can't imagine having to do his job; being the bearer of bad news. Telling a bunch of strangers that they've lost a loved one; turning their lives upside down. I would never be able to survive it. I don't think I could.

I remember the ride to the hospital. It was my very first time in an ambulance and hopefully my last by God's grace. It had been scary and I know that I kept having to brush away the tears that stained my cheeks as I watched the expressions on people's faces when the ambulance would go by.

I'd once been like those people; having the leisure of being on the outside in a totally non-tumultuous situation; being curious as to what must have happened to warrant an ambulance.

They were the lucky ones. They didn't have to say goodbye to their mum at age 11. They would still return home from school and have her nag them about chores and whatnot.

I won't. Not anymore.

That had been our bleakest Christmas ever.

But I'm not saying it in a way that I'm looking for pity or anything. I'm way past that. I know that what's done is done. I cannot change my past. Mum had taught me that. That's why when my friends and family stepped in to help dad and I through our difficult time, we'd welcomed them and tried to assist them in helping us.

Mum wouldn't want us moping around so we didn't. We miss her and we grieved but we've moved on with our lives. There's only so much you can do though.

On days like today, those are the days it really hits home for us. We're never getting her back.

"It's okay dad." I repeat when I notice he's still sniffing. He makes to hug me and I let him hold me, seeking comfort in his embrace just as much as he seeks in mine. "We're okay."

"I don't know what I would do if I lost you too Gennii." He says, burying his nose in my hair.

"Don't talk like that dad." I whisper, silently shooting a quick prayer to God. "You won't. God won't let that happen."