Best Of Joy

Chapter 3

“I can’t imagine being 25 and still living with your family. I mean, I’m not meaning that as a bad thing. Not at all. I don’t even know what it’s like to have a family on your 11th birthday.”

Michael froze just before taking another swig. His eyes focused on me and I could tell he was dearly apologetic.

“You know”, he began, slowly and carefully setting his cup down on the floor in front of him, “when you told me that earlier, I didn’t really take it in. And I’m sorry if I acted ignorant to it. I was just. Well, I guess still amazed by how you were…the way you were treating me,” He said. “I can’t imagine not having a family. Family is almost the only thing I feel I really have.” He reached around my shoulders and drew me into him. We sat leaning on each other. Michael really knew how to comfort someone; he made me feel so safe in that moment. I rested my head on his shoulder and began to tell him more of what I thought I’d already explained earlier. Oh well, it didn’t annoy me. I understood where he was coming from, and it gave us something to talk about, no matter how painful that subject was for me.

He was still wet, but so was I, and I didn’t mind.

I rested my hand on his abdomen, and my fingers couldn’t help but trace the outline of his toned detail.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “what did he do to you?” He was talking about my father, I presumed. His voice was filled with compassion and understanding, almost like he felt what I had felt back when.

“Well,” I sighed, “he was great up until mom passed. Those were the happiest days I can ever recall. He used to tuck me in every night and he’d stay with me until I was asleep, to assure the monsters under my bed never came out and ate me,” I laughed lightly, remembering the good old days. “And then in December, Mom was diagnosed with colon cancer. And it was just a complete mystery to us. We didn’t know how or why, because no one in our family had any history of it. They told us it was spreading fast and treatment for it would only slow it down, not stop it. We couldn’t afford it anyway. I remember being in the doctor’s office with her and Dad when he told us she only had about 7 months to live. Imagine being a little kid and being told your mother, pretty much your entire life, had a limited amount of time to live. I mean, I just…I fell to the floor instantly. The doctor could’ve at least asked me to go outside. Or wait in the waiting room or whatever. All I know is that I just did not need to hear that. I’ll never forget the way it felt.

“I kept looking up at them just screaming and bawling ‘No! No! No!’ But Dad picked me up and we left. I remember the ride home being very quiet, except for me, bawling my eyes out. When I had calmed down a few days later, Dad sat me down and had a long talk with me. He told me Mom was going to see God in a few months and that we needed to help her get ready. The way he put it made my outlook slightly better, but I was still messed up psychologically. I really fell into a depression that no child should ever have to face. The changes I began seeing in Mom the next few months were incredible. It seems like not even 3 weeks after being told her days were numbered, her appearance began to fade. Her eyes became sunken in and her face became so pale. I saw the life being completely drained from her. I’d ask her ‘Mommy, can we go walk Daisy like we used to?’ Daisy was our lab. She’d say ‘No Sweety, go walk her yourself.’ That might not seem like a big deal, but you’d have to have known her. She never denied walks or going outside or spending time with me for anything. There were times when she was ill with the flu, she’d still go with me. She was a trooper. But not with this illness.

“Somehow, in my tiny mind, I knew it was far more serious than any other time she’d been sick. But I didn’t want to accept it. I knew God was gonna take her soon and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. But I couldn’t. She got so bad she could hardly lift her head up, and it was around that time I knew it was going to be soon.