Page 21 of Let Me

The thing is, with the radiation and chemotherapy, I almost didn’t make it out of college.I was sick and tired – mentally and physically.After undergoing all of that, I wasn’t about to be chained to a desk staring at numbers for however many years I had left.I wanted to be out in nature.I craved that connection with the earth.With God.With my inner self.I wanted to know who I really was, andeconomicswasn’t a priority.

My father, on the other hand, still thinks I’m wasting the years I have left by bagging groceries and, in his words, ‘hanging out with half-baked hippies in the forest who don’t have a pot to piss in’.I still love him, though.We just haven’t been able to see eye-to-eye in a very long time.

“Woo…it’s muggy out there,” Mom says, fanning her face with her right hand.

“It is.I would advise you to switch to early morning walks if you must walk at all.And I’m talking around five or six.”

“Nonsense.It’s still dark at five, and I’m getting ready for work by six.”

“The store doesn’t open until eight.”

“Exactly.What do you think I’m going to do?Hurry up and throw on some clothes at seven thirty and pop up at work?I can’t do that.I need time to wake up, stretch, eat, drink my coffee, and say my morning prayer.I have a routine.”

She steps out of her shoes, wiggles her toes, plops down on the couch, and crosses her legs.She’s made herself at home.In a way, sheishome.This is her childhood home.She always has stories to tell me about how she grew up.Where she fell and scraped her knee.How she used to help her mother bake cookies and play hide and seek with Uncle Reuben.She loves this home.I’m glad I decided to keep it.

She leans forward, picks up the remote, and says, “When is the last time you turned this TV on?”

“Don’t know.I don’t watch TV that much.You know that.”

I walk to the fridge and take out a bottle of water, walking it over to her.

“Oh, bless your heart.Thank you.”She rubs the bottle across her face before she opens it and starts drinking right away.“Ahh…that’s good.Hey, I made some mozzarella chicken for dinner.I can run and get you some, if—”

“No, thank you.I had Acropolis for dinner.”

“Oh.Okay.”

I don’t want to sit down, but I take a moment to sit with her.I never know when it will be our last conversation.That’s one thing my diagnosis taught me—not to take anyone for granted.I even tried to extend an olive branch to my father, but he’s not as receptive as my mother is.

I stretch my legs out in front of me, put my hands behind my head, and close my eyes while releasing a day’s worth of a sigh.

“Tired?”

I open my eyes and look at my mother.She’s a beautiful fifty-one-year-old woman who looks like she’s in her forties.She had me right after high school.Neither she nor my father went to college.They had a business to run – one my father inherited from my grandfather – so, as soon as they both graduated, they got to work.Been running it ever since.

“Yes, I’m wiped out.”

“I was hoping since you left early, you were going to get some rest.”

“I desperately need it.”

I close my eyes again.Her face appears – Autumn’s – and I wish it wouldn’t.I haven’t been able to get her off my mind since we met, but I know I need to.

“I can’t help but notice you seem a little down,” Mother says, yet again interrupting my thoughts.“Care to talk about it?I’m all ears.”

Once again, I open my eyes and look at her.I’m not annoyed.I’m never annoyed with my mother because I know her heart.I know what she stands for.Her values.Her intentions, especially when it comes to me.I’m more in a difficult state of mind at the moment as I think about this relationship thing – battling the thin line between what I want and what I know the other person doesn’t deserve.I want friendship with Autumn just like I have with all the other women I know.But with Autumn, I feel like there’s something deeper I can connect with.I know there is.That doesn’t scare me.It confuses me.I have nothing to offer her.So, why am I thinking about the possibility of offering her something I don’t have?

“Judah?”

I look at my mother and say, “You know I’ve always been the person to play the hand I’m dealt.Always.”

“Yes, you are.”

“People say God works in mysterious ways and He gave me this because He knew I could handle it, and since this diagnosis, I’ve been handling it, correct?I mean, it may not be in the way you or Dad envisioned, but I’m doing the best I can.”

“I know you are, Judah, and your father knows it too, no matter how stubborn he is.Is that what’s bothering you?”

“It’s, um…well, I’ve been feeling a little down for the last few days.It’s like, I know I need to go through this, right, but why me?Why can’t I have a normal life?”

---