Scoops of life

After an eight-hour-long journey, I finally arrived back in my hometown after spending my first semester in college. It had snowed here the night before, sparking the Christmas season in the town. The train station was dazzling with bright lights, and Christmas decorations dangled around the fenestrations of the building. People were coming back from all over to celebrate the holidays with their families, but for me, I knew this was going to be the worst Christmas ever. 

I had been thinking of several last-minute excuses in my dorm room, hoping to find a way not to come back home. But I knew that it wouldn't fix anything. I felt defeated and built up all the courage that remained within me to accept my fate and come back home. The entire train ride my thoughts were internally clouded as negative thoughts constantly loomed around in my head. 

How did I get in this situation? What went wrong? What do I do with myself?

I didn’t know how I ended up in this position considering this past year had started exceptionally well for me. I was performing very remarkably in all my classes, just like I had been for the entirety of my time in high school. I was part of the soccer team and was a senior member for multiple clubs. I had high ambitions and a vision set for my future to achieve my goals. I had it all planned out, and it was all going accordingly. After getting accepted to one of the top 15 STEM universities in the country with a full scholarship, I graduated high school as the valedictorian as well. 

I will never forget that day, as I stepped on the podium with my chest all puffed up as I presented my speech in front of an audience of a little under a thousand people. None of that crowd mattered that day, except for one person. My dad. 

That was the first time I ever saw him get teary. He was so proud of his son. To achieve so much and so early in life. He himself had never excelled academically, but he always supported me. My mother passed away when I was still quite young, so it was just me and my dad growing up, but he never made me feel left out and always filled in the gaps. He took the responsibility and acted both as a father would and a mother would in raising me.

Only he knows the struggles he went through as a single parent. I didn’t realize it then, but now I know all the difficulties, financial and emotional, of sorts, he had to face throughout his life. He was elated when I told him about my scholarship. It not only meant that I would be able to achieve my dreams, but it also indicated that he succeeded in being a good parent. How can I, after all that, come back home from college and tell him that I failed my classes and lost my scholarship?

Merry Christmas, Dad, I have a surprise for you! I failed my first semester! 

I had been dreading this confrontation. He was to pick me up from the station, and I had planned to tell him on the car ride back home. The more I delay it, the worse I make the situation. I was most worried about how my dad was going to react. Anger? Sadness? Dejected? I had always been an above-average student and never had to encounter such circumstances in the past. 

Beep. Beep. 

I see my dad's car parked at the visitor pickup as he waved towards me through the window. I began walking towards him, my heart thumping rapidly, accelerating faster with every step I took. My thoughts became even more discombobulated, and my head fell in a rush as if it was zooming through a roller coaster.

“Welcome back, Champ,” he greeted me as I approached him.

“Hi Dad,” I whimpered.

“I’m glad you’re finally back home. Seems like finals really kicked your ass. You barely called or messaged the last two weeks,” my dad said as he helped me put my luggage in the trunk of the car. He isn’t a very expressive person, but I could tell he was pleased to see me.

I shrugged. I didn’t know how to respond. We settled in the car, and I sunk into my seat, ashamed of myself as I sat beside him silently as he drove off. Neither of us said anything for the first few minutes as we quietly drifted through the road, passing by houses decorated with all sorts of lights and ornaments. However, the only thoughts that occupied me that time were the dire situation I had gotten myself into and the confrontation I had to face.

“Look, I know Christmas isn’t here yet, but I got us tickets to the Flyers game. Pretty good seats too…”

“Dad. I have something to tell you,” I broke him off. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. It felt like reality was keeping me hostage till I just blurted out the truth.

“I failed my semester. I didn’t realize things were getting out of hand until my grades started falling and I couldn’t keep my GPA up. I’d have to retake some classes, but I also… lost my scholarship,” I blurted it out. I had gone over this engagement over and over in my head, but none of what I had recited came out through my words in the situation. I felt so ashamed I might have even disintegrated from existence at that moment.

Silence. A minute goes by, and then another goes by. No response. The only sound was the whizzing of the engine as my dad kept on driving without saying anything. Each moment felt worse and worse as it seemed like I was dying in that instance.

“Would you like some ice cream?” He breaks the silence as he continues driving.

Scoops of life. This was the local ice cream parlor that my dad and I had been going to ever since I was young. I got a cup of fudge brownie with chocolate drizzle while Dad got a cup of butter pecan as usual. He finally spoke as we sat in a small booth by the window inside the parlor.

“Ice cream is my favorite stress reliever. It cools the head when the thoughts are going rampant in there,” he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I apologized quietly, hiding my gaze away from his eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. You failed, so what? Big deal. I’ve failed a million times in life before I got to where I am, and I still don’t know what I’m doing. You’ve already achieved so much, and you have so much more to still accomplish. This is just a small pebble in your way.”

I looked up after hearing those words and met his gaze, stunned. I had gone through a million possibilities in my head for how he would react, but none where I heard that.

“Any help you need, you let me know,” he continued. “I’m sure you already have a lot on your mind, but I’ll suggest you forget all of that right now. It's your winter break, and Christmas is coming up, so cheer up right now, yeah?”

“But what about the scholarship?”

“We’ll figure something out. We always have. And I’ll help you figure out what issues you had to face with your classes as well, and we can find ways to build on and work on changes that will help. You’ve come a long way, and there’s no way we’re giving up this easily.”

The million voices in my head hush down upon hearing those words as I felt relief within me, like a ray of light pierced through my clouded thoughts. I was on the verge of tears as my dad offered his hand towards me. I extend mine in return and shake it as he remarks, “Just remember, you’re never alone.”

I’m left speechless as I sat there with my ice cream melting in the cup. Even though I was a bit confused, I was relieved. I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t expecting any of that at all.

“So about the Flyers tickets I got….”

- - -

Today life threw me the most difficult challenge it can possibly throw towards a parent. As soon as I picked up Joshua from the station, I knew something was wrong. A moody drift was following him. I’ll confess that when he told me he failed his classes, I felt heartbroken. I have seen him reach such peaks; I never imagined finding him hiding under a rock. I didn’t know how to respond. Hell, it took me forever to even form up a somewhat suitable response. But I’m relieved that he feels safe enough to not hide or lie about such matters with me. Life circles back.

I’ve seen this situation before, although the previous time I was just a spectator. Michael, my older brother, was an academically gifted kid. I never despised him for his brilliance, but I’ll divulge that I was mildly envious of him. He was always the center of attention. He had made a great reputation for himself, and he was always active. Volunteering, participating in school events, leading the school council, and things of such sorts.

He kept outperforming himself as he aged, and I always looked up to him. He was about a decade older than me, so rather than competing with him, he instead became my role model. However, I started seeing him less once he moved out to college. He was supposedly so occupied with his studies at an Ivy League school that he rarely visited back home, and our relationship became a bit distant.

Josh doesn’t even know that I had an older brother. In a way I’ve tried to forget all about it because that night still haunts me. That night when the cops came to our house to inform us that Michael had passed away. The news that followed gravely impacted both my parents and me.

Michael had dropped out of college a year ago, and according to his roommates and friends, he had also started meddling with various addictions. He dropped out after failing his classes. He had never failed before and fallen under depression due to the expectations he had set for himself and the pressure others had mounted on him. He was ashamed of the fact that he couldn’t keep up with his peers and refused to come back home as he was terrified of a confrontation. Terrified to be judged. Michael took his own life when he couldn't take it anymore.

Josh might be disappointed or scared or even ashamed of himself right now. He might be afraid to face the world. However, I don't feel any of that. Because I still have the most precious thing to me with me, my son. I might not be the perfect father, but I’ll damn sure do my best to be perfect for him.