Wasting away.
That’s what the doctor said. My father was slowly wasting away.
As I sat beside his hospital bed my hand unconsciously
reached for his and I gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Hi, Dad,” I said as tears filled my eyes and a smile
stretched across my face. He didn’t answer and I didn’t expect him to.
“You know what I was just thinking about? I was remembering
when you taught me how to drive. Do you remember that? You took me to that
empty parking lot behind the school and setup two trashcans so I could practice
parallel parking.”
The words spilled out quickly as the tears streamed down my
face. I was terrible at parallel parking and my father knew it. I thought I saw
a faint smile spread across his face as I continued. Or maybe I just imagined
that.
“I must have ran over those trashcans a dozen times, but you
keep making me try again and again. I remember being so mad at you for laughing
at my failed attempts.” The memory made me laugh aloud as I held his hand more
tightly. “You told me I was taking the whole thing too seriously.”
And he was right. Less than a week later, after I had
finally gotten the nerve to take my driver’s test, I parallel parked that damn
car on my very first try. I was so excited to tell my father, but I could tell
from the look on his face when I charged into the waiting room at the DMV that he already knew I had passed. He never doubted me.
I remembered jumping up and down excitedly waving my new
license in front of him. He smiled and reached to tuck an unruly strand of
hair behind my ear. “What did I tell you? You need to start believing in
yourself, little lady. You are capable of so many great things. You just have
to remember to believe in yourself.”
He always called me that. Little lady.
“I’m going to try harder, Dad,” I said in a strained voice
while tightening my grip on his hand once again. “I’m going to try harder to
not take life so seriously, and believe in myself they way you do and to stop
doubting everything…”
My voice cracked and trailed off as I took quick, sharp
intakes of breath, willing myself to pull it together. The room smelled like a
mixture of medicine and Lysol and the soft wheezing from the ventilator was
beginning to sound like loud screeching to my ears. The urge to flee this
confining, white walled box was almost unbearable.
Finally, the tears stopped and I began to breathe more easily.
I lower my lips and kissed his fragile, wrinkled hand.
I felt as though I too were wasting away with him.
................................................................................................................................................................
This excerpt has been waiting for me to hit the publish key for a while. Again, my fiction is hard for me to share. I think it's because 1) it always feels incomplete, and 2) I love my characters so much. It's strange to feel protective of fictional characters...
Anyways, if you're interested, you can read the first excerpt I shared of this novel here.
I'm taking a few days off of blogging for the Memorial Day weekend. I hope all you lovelies have a great weekend and stay safe! I'll see you next Tuesday :)
