I'm Dying

You’ve got this. 

My eyes are closed. The voice, it’s so vivid, yet impossible to locate. I try to ask for help but simply cannot. My strength is fleeting, being pulled from under me more and more by the second. 

I feel my grandson, Nick’s, hand touch mine. Immediately, I assumed the voice was his. It has to be, right? Who else could it be? 

Nick’s a good grandson. Always has been. He was the one who would take off work to drive me to my appointments. I always appreciated it, but my guilt never allowed me to tell him this. 

A concerning thought crosses my mind — is this even Nick’s hand? I wish I could pry my eyes open to be sure.

What have I become? Unable to do anything on my own. How sad am I? I’m better off —

— Never mind. Think positive thoughts I tell myself. 

I wish I could tell him how much his support means to me. What was his name again? Nick? Or was it Marc? It has to be Marc.

Marc’s hand grips mine harder, but I know with a gentle intention. I feel the pre-cry shivers shoot across my body, but it’s short-lived. Never quite carrying out its task, I fail to cry. I lie motionless. 

I can’t show any emotion recently. I reside in this vacuum. Nothing really enters or leaves — just empty space. 

I’ve grown fond of when Marc visits — wait, that doesn’t sound right. Nick? Yes, Nick.

I love it when Nick visits me most. Aloud, most conversations are one-sided. He tells me all about his life — he’s fallen in love recently; but in the silence, we speak about lifetimes of stories, and share what we never could before. And somehow, we both agree it’s better this way. As now, I won’t get bogged down with words, thoughts, or ways to misrepresent what I want to say. I always struggled when I was healthy to get my thoughts across. People never quite understood me. 

That’s okay though. I always felt like I was put on this earth to make other people happy. My feelings were never meant to be a part of the equation; which is why I sure love Marc. He cared to hear me out. And not in an obligatory way, no… His eyes alone reassured me on how much of what I said meant. 

I wish my son visited more. Marc says his father’s been working a lot lately. My son has always been a hard worker. I sure do love him. 

Marc must’ve picked up a cold recently. Today, he’s sniffling an awful lot… He normally sounds congested, almost as if he has been crying, but today it seems worse. My favorite nurse brought him some tissues. She’s made me feel at home in ways my family never could. With her, I feel cared for. 

When I was a little more well, she would always sneak me two juice boxes — grape and apple juice. I would mix them… I felt like a bartender; if only bartenders were bedridden and unable to care for themselves.

She always said I was her favorite. I’m sure she has to say that. I think Lauren was her name. Also, could’ve been Leslie. Her name slips my mind.

Nick’s hand trembles over mine. There goes his sniffles again. 

Marc gets up and retrieves my lunch. I’m not very hungry. I feel the spoon hovering over my lips. I’d love nothing more than to eat a bite for him; you need to if you want to get better he pleads. 

I can’t remember the last time I ate, or even what it was. All of the days bleed together. Nothing really separates them from one another. 

I once heard that we perceive time in relation to memorable moments. This is why days used to feel so long as a child and so quick as an adult. 

Who knows. 

I simply can’t eat whatever it is Marc is feeding me. I wish I didn’t disappoint him as much. 

All of a sudden the strangest sensation arises over me. I feel something I haven’t in a while. Acceptance. 

I’m dying. 

I sure hope what’s his face leaves before this happens. I asked him to, but I don’t think he heard me. I must’ve said it too low. He stays for a few more hours. 

We spend them in our secret, unspoken chamber. I can’t believe how much I’ve learned about him and he’s learned about me. I feel ready to leave. 

I always felt like my grandson understood me.  

I should feel lucky. Not everyone gets to say they have someone in their life like this. I’ve lived a blessed life. My family has always meant the world to me. 

I wonder if I’ll be able to say goodbye.

Nick? Marc? Whatever it is, he finally rises. He lends me a kiss on my forehead. 

A sudden jolt of energy consumes me. It takes me a moment but I can finally open my eyes. 

The brightness shocks me. I don’t remember this room being so white. I mean the fluorescent lights always felt a bit too bright for me, but this… It’s almost too much. 

I can see Nick as he leaves. I love you I whisper. Somehow he hears me. Turning around, I see Nick as I never have before.

He feels powerful, yet gentle. I’m at ease. I sure do love it when he visits. 

Nick comes back to take my hand. The white reflecting off the walls blur his face, but Nick’s silhouette is sure more peaceful than I remember. He’s angelic.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this good. Maybe I’ll get better. 

Right as Nick is close enough for me to see his precious face, the power goes out — just my luck. 

In the darkness, I feel Nick lift me out of bed. I’m resistant. I don’t want to fall again in front of him. 

Before I got sick, I fell for the first time in front of him and his friends. I never felt so embarrassed… I was diagnosed with stage-4 pancreatic cancer three weeks later. I’m thankful as this at least excused my falling. 

Nick’s arm on mine gives me strength I’ve forgotten existed. I rise with ease.

I’m not ready to leave this earth yet. I want to get better. I will get better. 

I can’t wait to tell my son how much I love him. I’m thankful I’ll get to hug Nick again. He always gave the best hugs. 

Maybe I’ll get an ice cream. I haven’t had one since I got sick. 

I can’t believe I’m going to be okay. It’s a miracle. 

I’ll be able to hug and kiss my family again. 

You’ve got this.

He’s right. I do.