Requiem

What if… 

It wasn’t a Wednesday and it was a Monday instead. You’d be going to work as usual, driving in your car and looking at the early morning fog. The sun would be painting the sky a million shades of blue and purple, red and orange, pink and yellow. You would be thinking about how glorious it all was, a testament to God’s creation, and you wouldn’t receive a text from your dad. You would continue to drive to work in the quiet, cursing when a car passes you on the highway, day-dreaming about the dark coffee you would pour yourself at work, and everything would be perfect. 

But… 

It was a Wednesday morning and you were running late. Hurriedly brushing your teeth and pouring coffee in a black Yeti mug at the same time while cursing because you really do need to get your alarm clock fixed. Your mom was still asleep. It wasn’t unusual because she had been more tired lately, but that was just the service hours kicking in from the weekend. Your dad was gone, already at work and you were alone. Alone with your coffee, curses, and angry red thoughts as she ran out the door, only narrowly snagging your keys. As you drove, you prayed that you wouldn’t get a ticket for going 5 over. And that your boss wouldn’t be angry at you for being late. But some things aren’t meant to be, and your phone chirped with an incoming text just as you arrived at work, seven minutes late. 

What if…

You had been on time to work. The familiar smells of coffee and breakfast filtered through the coffee shop and as you clocked in you thanked whatever saint was smiling on you today that you had worn a nice blue top. Your cute co-worker was in today, and smiling at you as you quickly pour yourself an Americano. You both would fall into easy conversation as you work, flirty smiles exchanged over pastries and jokes thrown back and forth through white steam from the frothing machine. And everything was perfect, because it was a good day and a cute friend was flirting with you. Your phone was low on battery so you would power it off and not think about what calls or texts you might get. You wouldn’t live in fear of the next change headed your way. 

But…

You glanced down at your phone. You were already late, it wouldn’t hurt to reply, right? You pick it up and see that it was from your dad. With a shock that was almost as painful as a punch to the gut, your brain reeled as you tried to comprehend what the words meant. Your mom was in the hospital, and your dad said that you needed to come as soon as possible. You hurriedly threw your seat buckle back on and raced down the road, trying not to speed and to find the hospital. Why was the only stable person in your life suddenly not okay? And how bad was it? Would your mom be alright? Your brain felt like it had been thrown in a blender. How could this possibly be happening again? 

What if…

You mom never had any history of disease. There were no members of her family that had ever gotten cancer and she never even had the flu. You remember her as being healthy and full of life, running around the house and outside, especially with your dad and her friends. She was a busybody in the best way possible, and involved in everything. From planning the church social to running a book club at the familiar beige library to hosting an annual food drive every month for the homeless shelter. She was active and ate right and you knew that you would never have to worry about her getting some random fatal disease, it just simply wasn’t in her cards. She was destined to grow old and take care of grandbabies and cook lots of food. Not fall ill. 

But…

Your mom had gotten sick before. Really sick, to the point where she vomited everyday and lost her hair because of chemotherapy. Your grandmother had gotten cancer before, that was how she died, but no one ever realized that it could be genetic and affect her children. The doctors would explain to you and your dad that the disease ran deep in her bones and that there was a chance that she wouldn’t live to see Christmas. But she had pulled through then, having her medicines every day and going through with the treatments and surgeries that she was told would save her. She saw Christmas that year and Easter afterwards. She was healthy and happy, though she got very weak sometimes and didn’t always get around to doing the laundry. 

What if…

You never knew what a hospital was like. You had never stepped foot in one once. Even after your best friend broke her toe, you didn’t go to the hospital with her, just home instead and you brought her a bright bouquet the next day. Your life was golden and you had never really known what true pain, true grief at the loss of something or someone special to you. The most sadness you had ever felt was when you didn’t get that brown puppy that you had your eye on for Christmas when you were 7. But even then, the consolation was the black and white pony you received for your birthday three weeks later. 

But…

Throughout your life, you repeatedly lost people. Your best friend in middle school, your dog, your first boyfriend who you thought would stick around. But he just proved you wrong and ran off after a fight, only to sleep with your best friend. You had fallen into dark cycles of guilt and fear after all of these. Because somehow all of these things and more, were your fault. So as you raced to the hospital, your mind whirled with the thought that maybe you were responsible for this relapse. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked her the other day to do your laundry that she forgot about. Maybe you shouldn’t have kept badgering her about altering your white prom dress in time. Maybe you shouldn’t have been mad that she completely forgot about making dinner and by the time you got home late from work, there was nothing to eat. You just hoped that she would be alright in the end, that she would get through it again. 

What if…

She pulled through and the entire hospital escapade was nothing more than an overreaction. Just some light-headedness that resulted in a faint. Once you arrived at the hospital you would find that it was okay because your mom just had a severe iron deficiency that could be helped by taking it regularly. You all would laugh it off and go get dinner, and in the coming days and weeks you would bug your mom and ask if she had taken her iron yet. Over the next few months you would mostly forget about the scare and jump back into regular life. You would stress over normal things like your grade, or this guy that you liked, or your weekend plans. Your world would be happy and skies would be bright blue again, not marred by negative possibilities instead of positive ones. And everything would be alright. 

But…

Once you pulled into a parking space in the hospital parking lot, you quickly turned off the car and rushed inside. The nurse at the front desk made you calm down and tell her what the problem was. And you told her that your mom had been rushed in earlier. After hearing your mother’s name the nurse turns pale and calls you sugar and says that she would be right back. She disappears for a moment and comes back, leading you through winding halls, to a different waiting room. You fall into your waiting dad’s arms and ask a million questions at once. But even he didn't know what was going on. The doctors hadn’t said anything to him since they called him from work to tell him that his wife was in the ER. But, after a few minutes, a grim faced doctor walked in towards them. 

What if…

You could’ve stopped it all and fixed everything with a wave of your fingers.

But…

You weren’t a fairy or wizard or God, you were helpless against the inevitable. 

What if…

It really was just a false alarm and she was perfectly fine. 

But…

It wasn’t. And she wasn’t. 

What if…

It wasn’t a Wednesday and it was a Monday instead. You’d be going to work as usual, driving in your car and looking at the early morning fog. The birds would be singing and happy, the sky would be bright with colors that no human artist possessed. You would be humming along to a song on the radio and thinking about how excited you were for your family dinner tonight because your mom was making her delicious gravy and mashed potatoes. Not to mention that you would see your favorite cousins, and the night would be full of laughter and smiles, drinks and memories remembered and made. The future was bright and full as a waxing moon and you felt happy and confident. 

But…

It was a Wednesday morning and you weren’t even at work yet. It was completely forgotten about and later you would get a call from your manager, harping on your flakiness and with a short apology attached to the words, We’re letting you go. Instead, you were at the hospital with your father while your mom was in a room down the sickly white hall. Tubes were plugged into her and machines were clustered around her, beeping noisily. You were clutching his hand and hoping that the doctor’s face didn’t reveal the news he was about to give. Maybe he was just one of those people who constantly looked unhappy. But through the haze of confusion and worry, your ears catch the most horrible words you’ve ever heard:

I’m sorry but there’s nothing we can do. She won’t last the day.