The
world seemed to slip into slow motion with each step she took. Before she
realized it, Kyra found herself seated in a patch of damp grass in front of the
student union, clutching her book bag at her side.
She
gripped the phone tighter with each word that resonated through the phone.
“Kyra,”
her dad repeated. “You don’t need to worry. This isn’t a surprise.”
“Yes……
I do,” she stuttered. “Dad, this is…Dad, this is bad. What’re they going to do
now? Do you have another appointment?”
“Sweetie,
it’ll be under control, ok? I had to expect this.”
“Dad…”
“Kyra
sweetie, let’s talk again tonight,” her dad said. “Didn’t you say you have
class? Call back tonight, I’ll put it on speaker phone so we can talk to your
mother too.”
“Okay,
well –”
“Love
you Kyra.”
“Dad
– ”
“Kyra
sweetie I’ll talk to you tonight, ok? Love you.”
“Love
you, Dad.”
She
held her phone to her ear until she heard the “beep” ending the call. Squeezing
her book bag tighter, tears swelled in her eyes. She hugged her knees and book
bag to her chest as if she was hugging her stuffed dog, as she took deep
breaths to rid herself of the tears. It didn’t work though, as she put her chin
on her knees and tears broke loose from her tear ducts, like race horses let
out of the starting gate.
Her
quiet outpouring of emotion occurred in the Great Circle, the main hang out of
her college campus. Kyra sat between the student union and bookstore, away from
the most common path that students took during the change of classes. If anyone
noticed her rocking back and forth hugging her knees as she sat in the grass,
they didn’t give her a second look.
A
20-year-old sophomore in college, Kyra was set to study abroad in Dublin,
Ireland in 5 months during the fall of her junior year. She had first visited
Ireland with her younger sister and aunt when she was 17. Posters of all
different shades of green decorated the walls of her dorm room, and in her
bedroom at home she slept under an authentic wool blanket that she bought at a
market in Kildare. Each day in her daily planner was marked with a small number
in the bottom right corner, counting down the days until her plane took off.
The
phone conversation she had just had with her dad was a conversation which she
prayed everyday would never happen. Her dad was 67 years old and his health was
deteriorating. When Kyra was 7, her dad had a stroke which left him physically
handicapped. Because of the stroke, he was forced to take an extended leave of
absence from his consulting job, and finally retire. Though he relearned how to
walk, eat, and speak, Kyra’s dad was deaf in his right ear, had nerve damage on
the right side of his face and in his right hand, as well as in both of his
legs. He needed a walker to walk and was no longer being able to drive.
It
was not until Kyra’s freshman year of college when she made a new set of
friends that she realized that her dad’s stroke had greatly changed what would
have been the normal course of her life.
Kyra
and her younger sister, Grace, grew up in a small town in suburban Chicago and
attended all of their various levels of school with the same general group of
children. Because of this close community, everyone knew each other’s family
well and Kyra and Grace’s dad was not often spoken of. However, when Kyra went
to college in southern Virginia, three hours from her small community of
friends and family, she was suddenly bombarded with the expectation of explaining her dad. She realized that
people expected her dad to be “normal.”
“He’s
retired,” she would say. “He had a stroke when I was little. Yeah. He hasn’t
been able to work since then.”
“My
parents are visiting this weekend,” she told her friends as a warning. “My dad
had a stroke, so if you can’t understand what he’s saying, don’t feel bad.”
“Yeah,
I guess I did have to take care of my sister a lot,” she’d admit. “It never
felt like that though. My mom just always had to take my dad to the doctor and
stuff, so Grace and I got to play together a lot.”
Kyra’s
friends’ surprised reactions often caused her to consider the benefits and downfalls
of her dad’s stroke. Tinges of jealousy often struck her as she shared stories
with friends about childhood memories, leaving her with mixed feelings of
jealousy, confusion, and anger toward herself. She was angry at herself for
being jealous of her friends playing sports with their dads. She was angry at
herself for being embarrassed of her dad, when people stared at him as if there
were something wrong.
In
the mess of her tears, Kyra felt a wave of emotions. Initially, panic flooded
her body. During the phone call her dad shared news with her that she had been
dreading to hear. His white blood cell count had broken the barrier between
“high” and “too high.” Leukemia sounded so much worse than anything else that
had crossed her dad’s path. Sadness followed the panic, as she thought of her
dad’s age, his health, and her younger sister. Maybe leukemia isn’t that bad, she thought to herself, we were expecting it anyway.
While
leukemia was a serious condition, Kyra knew that this type of leukemia was not
immediately life-threatening. Staring at a few ants trekking though the grass,
Kyra’s tear ducts were bombarded full force by her tears when she thought of
her upcoming trip this fall. She was angry and embarrassed at herself for being
mad at her father, she knew it wasn’t his fault that he had leukemia now, but
she wanted to go to Ireland.
She
tried to stop the flow of tears, but anger swelled in her chest and the
emotions burst from her body. Kyra furrowed her eyebrows and put her forearms
on her head as she thought of all she had given up because of her dad. She
spent many Friday nights babysitting Grace while her friends were hanging out,
many afternoons grocery shopping or cleaning the house for her mom, countless
times running around the house or around town picking up necessities for her
dad, numerous days spending time with Grace’s friends rather than her own
because she had to watch Grace, and hours upon hours working on the summer and
weekends for her own spending money. Normally these things didn’t upset Kyra
because this is what she knew, this was her life. But today, when all she
wanted was to drop everything and Ireland, the place of her dreams, and finally
do exactly what she wanted to do. She was envious of all of her friends who
didn’t have these responsibilities and everyone she knew with a “normal” life.
Kyra’s shallow breathing eventually slowed as these thoughts slipped to the
back of her mind.
She grabbed her
phone and her thumbs quickly typed a text to her mom. “I’m going to come home
tomorrow to talk to you guys about this,” it read.
After
each piece lay neatly piled on top of one another, Kyra grabbed her bag and headed
to the library to research her study abroad program when her phone vibrated.
“Hi,”
Kyra answered.
“Hi Kyr,” her mom said. “You’re coming home tomorrow?”
“Yeah Mom,” Kyra said. “This is important, I wanna talk
to you about it in person. Will you be free tomorrow if I drop by for a while?”
She could hear her mom shuffling through her calendar.
She could hear her mom shuffling through her calendar.
“Umm, yes honey, we’ll be free. How about you come home
for lunch at 12?”
“Alright, Mom,” Kyra answered. “See you tomorrow, love
you.
“Love you sweetie.”
The sun soon made its way toward the horizon and Kyra’s
stomach grumbled loudly. She had been on the internet for nearly three hours,
researching her university, late deposits, leukemia, and emailing her study
abroad adviser. She’d discovered that the housing deposit, which was due in
three days, was a final payment which must be completed in order for her to
attend the university in the fall. She’d scheduled a meeting with her study
abroad adviser; however she knew that she had already made her decision.
After hitting the al la carte station in the café for
dinner, Kyra boxed her food and took it to her dorm room to eat. She stabbed
each green on her plate with conviction as she clicked on the tv in an effort
to distract herself from her thoughts. When her plate was empty she climbed
into her bed and lied down with her phone on her pillow, next to her head. She
squeezed her stuffed dog, suddenly feeling very alone. She desperately wished
that this wasn’t reality. Closing her eyes and rubbing her dog’s ear, she dozed
off to the constant murmur of voices.
The next morning, she was jarred awake by the sound of
her alarm clock at 7:30 am. She quickly through off her comforter, grabbed her
bag of necessities, and started her car for the drive home.
During
her drive home, she thought of the development in her dad’s health. If she did
in fact go abroad, Kyra feared that her dad’s health would worsen and she would
regret her decision to be so selfish. Kyra would never forgive herself if
something terrible happened to her dad while she was away. When she finally
arrived at her cobblestone house and parked in her driveway, she grabbed her
bag from her backseat and walked up the sidewalk to her front door. Her mom’s
petunias lined the sidewalk, bulbs ready to bloom in the coming weeks. She
unlocked the large wooden front door and was greeted by her dust-colored
labradoodle, Cody.
“Hey boy,” she whispered in his ear, bending down to kiss
him on the head. She scratched his head, balls of wiry, curly hair in her hand.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” She dropped her bag by the front
door and walked into the kitchen in search of her mom. She could hear her dad
watching the news two rooms away on his plasma screen tv. Kyra pulled the door
to the stainless steel refrigerator open, assessing the options for lunch. Her
mom appeared behind her.
“I was going to make macaroni and cheese,” she said. “Do you
want a sandwich, too? There’s baloney and honey ham in there.”
“Hi Mom,” Kyra closed the refrigerator and hugged her
mom.
“Hi Kyr! Will you go get your Dad? I’ll put on the water
for the macaroni.”
Kyra padded down the hallway into her dad’s office, where
she found her dad sitting at his desk, tv blaring, watching the news. After
greeting him with a hug, they both made their way into the kitchen.
“I’m glad you came home, Kyra,” her dad said.
He leaned back in his chair and watched her mom bustle around the kitchen,
busying herself with nothing in particular. “I’m glad we can all talk.”
“Yes Steve,” her mom said. “It’s important. Honestly, what
are we going to do if one of these problems that you have gets worse? You’re
getting older. Kyra, he is getting older.” Kyra could feel the urgency in her
mom’s voice. She watched her mother lean against the kitchen counter, eyes on
her dad.
“Mom,” Kyra answered in a hushed voice. “I don’t, well I
don’t really know what to say. I know he’s sick, Mom. I’m not gonna go to
Ireland, you don’t have to worry about that, ok?”
“Your dad is sick, Kyra,” her mom raised her voice and
looked at Kyra.
“Mom, I know, I’m not – ”
“Honey, you’re sick,” her mom said to her dad.
“And yes, right now it’s not that bad. This leukemia isn’t that bad. But what
are we going to do when there are complications – when the combination of
everything is too much?”
With each word, her mother’s voice filled with more and
more feeling. Kyra watched her mom trying to hold back tears, trying to be
strong for all of them. She turned back to the pot on the stove, hiding her
face from everyone. Her mother was a worrier, but she had reason to be – she
had to take care of her entire family.
“Does Grace know?” Kyra asked. “Wait a second, where is
Grace anyway? It’s Saturday.”
“No,” her mom answered, turning back around. “We didn’t
tell her because we don’t think that it’s worth it to worry her more than
necessary. And she’s at Tracey’s house, she slept there last night. I’m
supposed to go get her at 1:30.”
“Well really Lynn, it’s not that dire,” her dad
said. “With the right care – ”
“Steve – ” her mom marched across the kitchen and stood
next to her dad’s chair.
“Guys,” Kyra interrupted. “Just stop it we don’t need to
talk about that, I’m not going.”
“It’s not a good idea, Kyra,” her mom said, retreating
back to the stove. “What are you going to do if he gets sick? What if – ”
“Lynn you know it’s not that serious,” her dad cut off
her mom. His slid his chair away from the kitchen table. It squeaked on the
linoleum floor. “Kyra, we want you to go.”
“Steven!” her mom raised her voice like she used to when
she scolded Kyra for playing too rough with Grace. “You cannot just tell her
that she can go! And you’re wrong, it is that
serious. What am I going to do if you get sick! Grace will be three states
away in the fall, Kyra will be across the ocean,”
her voice grew softer. “And what do you expect me to do if you’re sick? Steven what am I supposed to do?”
Kyra’s mom collapsed into her kitchen chair in defeat.
Tears welled up in her eyes but Kyra knew she wouldn’t cry. She had never seen
her mom cry.
“Mom,” Kyra said, reaching for her mom’s hand. “It’s fine
Mom you’re right. It’s alright Dad, it doesn’t matter. I can go to Ireland when
I’m older. It’s not the right time.”
Her dad watched across the table, helplessly. Kyra had
never known her dad to express emotion very well, so comforting her mother was
not his forte. He pulled his chair back in, closer to the table.
“I’m going to be alright, girls,” he said. “You don’t
worry about me.”
The three were jarred back to reality as the lid on the
pot of water on the stove clanked against the pot. Her mom shot up from her
chair and grabbed the box of macaroni, pouring it into the water.
“Mom,” Kyra said. “I’m not going to go, ok?”
Kyra stood up and reached for her mom.
“Mom, I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to worry
anymore.”
“Kyra, now – ” her dad started.
Kyra’s mom pushed Kyra’s arms away from her.
“Steven! Don’t! Don’t say anything! She’s not going, ok!
Do ever think about how I feel, even for one second of your day? If she’s
across the world, what am I going to do if you get sicker? What am I going to
do if God forbid something bad happens to me – what if I get in an accident? I
can’t take care of you alone, Steve – I just can’t do this all day all the time
without any help! She’s staying here and she’s going to help me when I need
help! So just stop it!”
At this moment, Kyra’s mom was inches from her dad’s
face. Her mom gasped and collapsed into the chair closest to her. The three of
them paused, still for nearly three minutes, and only the dog, Cody, dared to
make a move.
Kyra’s dad pushed his chair out from the table and pulled
himself up. Bracing himself on his chair, it took him three steps to reach
Kyra’s mom. A tear rolled down Kyra’s cheek as she watched her dad struggle to
bend his knees and waist so he could crouch to be eye to eye with her mom. With
his right hand he reached for her face, which he touched lightly, and with his
left hand he pulled her mom into an embrace.
Kyra approached her parents and opened her arms to reach
around each of them.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere, Mom,
I’ll be here.”
