A Ravine, Vast and Spiteful

No one likes hospitals. Lia found them to be disconcerting in every way: the stock art on the walls, the glow of florescent light mixing with the eggshell white paint on the walls to produce a harsh ambient light, and the smell of disinfectant all, when viewed analytically, peeled back the veneer of the peaceful house of healing that tried to dominate the popular conscious. Everything was trying to tell her to be calm, that this place is no threat, but no one ever goes to the hospital because they feel well and no amount of make-up would change how she felt.

The elevator doors opened, leading to a room with a small waiting area and reception desk for that floor. She checked her phone, re-reading the message that brought her here to see if she was on the right floor. The text had come through from her father saying that her grandmother had been admitted to the hospital earlier in the afternoon with what was diagnosed as a blood infection. This, coming right after she was released for a heart surgery not long before, made what had already been a taxing month for the family that much harder.

Lia stepped off of the elevator and took note of all the family members that were gathered. They were sitting or pacing, some consoling each other or chatting about nothing in particular, trying to distract themselves from the fact that all they could do was to sit and wait. One, however, sat apart from the others.

Sitting alone on the opposite side of the room was her Uncle Dennis. He was the oldest of his family: tall, balding, and wearing all the years of his life heavily on his face. He was hunched over, hands together as his elbows rested on his knees, looking at the floor and breathing deep. Dennis had a fractured relationship with most of his family. Lia's father, however, didn't care for the burden of long-held familial grudges and had made sure that Dennis was a part of his kid's lives. They deserved their Uncle Dennis and he wasn't going to let a decades-old quarrel lord over his children.

Seeing her Uncle Dennis sit by himself broke Lia's heart. He was a mountain of a man, but in this moment he was small as he sat in silence. She looked over to the rest of her family and an ember was stoked within her. She closed her eyes to try to calm down and breathed deep as she made her way over to Dennis and sat next to him. Dennis raised his head and looked over to Lia. “Oh, hey!” A weary smile stretched across his face as patted her knee in a feigned display of strength. It wasn't hard to see through, but Lia understood what he was trying to do for himself.

“Hey Uncle Dennis, how are you holding up?”

He shook his head, “As well as I can, I guess.” His gaze drifted over to the others in the room. His sisters whispered to each other, looking at one another and then back at Dennis and Lia. His lips curled, almost in shame, as his head dipped down again and his gaze was cast to the floor. “You don't have to do this...” he said weakly.

“What?” Lia looked over, trying not to imagine what kind of things were being said about Dennis. She was appalled that this division would continue even here in this moment, a moment where families were supposed to be whole, be there for each other as they face a grim reality.

But they were over there, and she was over here.

Soon, one of her aunts, Rita, broke off from the group and headed toward the seated pair. Lia grabbed Dennis' hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as she rose to meet Rita.

“Lia, thanks for coming.”

“Of course Aunt Rita.”

Lia hugged her aunt, feeling the weight of her worry in her embrace.

“How is she?”

Rita shook her head, “Not great, the doctors are still prepping her.” Her body was tense, trying to be as small as it could as she rubbed her forearm in self-comfort.

Lia noticed Rita kept looking past her, to Dennis as he sat alone. The look bothered Lia; it wasn't a look of concern but of annoyance. “You know,” Rita spoke sheepishly, with a touch of venom, “you don't have to sit with him. You could come join us.”

Lia froze. The words were spoken so casually, as if Lia had just been asked how her drive was. The ember within flared again, stoked by the callous disregard on display. Never one to shy away from speaking her mind, Lia confronted her aunt, unable to contain the fire that was building within her, “Are you kidding me?”

The direct challenge threw Rita off. “What?” she said, physically recoiling.

Lia clenched her fist, “He is your brother, Grandma is his mother too. She has a goddamn blood infection and you have the nerve to pull this petty shit.” She was practically growling at this point, trying to keep her volume down while asserting how angry she was.

“Lia, he-”

“He what, Aunt Rita? You have all kept this up for so long, longer than I've even been alive. Why?” She looked back at her Uncle Dennis. He kept his hands folded, looking at the ground. She saw him as she always knew him: A caring man and a gentle soul who worked tirelessly for his family, never speaking ill of those who shunned him. Lia turned back, “For what Rita? What did he do that was so bad?”

Rita sheepishly shrugged a shoulder as she raised her hand, gesturing toward Dennis, “Well he...” She paused for a moment, her head shaking slightly as she tried to recall. “It doesn't matter. He never apologized.”

“What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'? It greatly matters!”

“You don't need to know.”

“I would like to know, Rita. Tell me what happened.” Lia issued her direct challenge. She was making her stand. Rita remained quiet, searching for what to say, but failed to respond.

“You don't even remember, do you?”

Rita shot her a glare, “That doesn't matter what he did.”

Something broke in that moment. A small fabric of reality frayed in that instant as Lia saw her family in a new light. This feud had come up before in conversation with her father. Even he didn't remember what exactly was said on the day decades before between Dennis and Rita. He did, however, tell Lia that Dennis had tried in the past to apologize for his words, but his apologies fell on deaf ears. They held on to close to their grudge, their anger, and it consumed a part of their hearts. No apology would be good enough to heal the rift that had started long ago. It had become a canyon, carved out by the raging river of their resentment of their own making as they wallowed in their spite. Lia felt sorry for them.

Lia breathed deep and sighed, “I love you Aunt Rita.” Finding nothing else that could be said, she walked away and joined Dennis, who had overheard the conversation. He looked up to Lia, appreciative, with a loving, respectful expression, “Thank you Lia.”

“No problem Uncle Dennis.” She sat down beside him once more, “I love you.”