Page 9 of Follow My Voice
I’m in a good mood. I keep taking steps in the right direction, and it brings me a sense of hope. There’s a refreshing normalcy in the air and it feels great. There’s just one thing missing: Kang, although I know it’s strange to miss someone I’ve never met. I don’t know him, but I feel like I do, because I listen to him speak for an hour every other day and his voice has become so familiar to me.
“Have you given any more thought to starting college next semester?” We’re at the table and Kamila just can’t keep herself from bringing up my biggest fear.
I continue chewing. I saw it coming. My sister, seeing my slight improvement, is ready to launch me into the outside world. I can’t blame her; she just wants me to get my life back on track, but she hasn’t been subtle about it, “accidentally” leaving college pamphlets all over the house.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
Andy puts his hand on my shoulder. “That’s fine.”
But Kamila won’t let it go so easily. She wipes her mouth and goes on: “You’ve improved a lot, K. I think it would do you good to go to campus. Who knows, you might even make some friends.”
Friends… The word brings a bitter taste to my mouth. Because the people I considered my friends in high school vanished as soon as my mom got sick.
I huff. “Make some friends?” I say sarcastically, pointing to myself. “With the mess that I am?”
“Klara…”
I stand up. “Let’s be honest, who would want to be friends with someone like me?”
Andy reaches for my hand, but I pull away. “Klara, don’t…”
I go to my room, close the door behind me, and lean my backagainst it, pressing my lips shut tight to keep from crying. It hurts. Because I do want to make friends. I want to be normal. To do all the things people my age do—socialize, date, go to parties, and yes, attend college. I want that more than anything in the world. But I can’t, and every time someone reminds me of it, it hurts.
I look to the picture of my mother with that dazzling smile. I remember like it was yesterday the rainy evening she came home and asked my sister and I to have a seat on the sofa, because she had something to tell us. A thousand things flashed through my mind, but I could’ve never imagined what she was about to say:“I just came from the doctor’s office. A few weeks ago, I noticed a lump in my left breast… I’ve had several tests done, including a biopsy.”
At this word, my entire body went cold.
“It’s cancer.”
And withthatword, I was frozen solid.
You hear people talk about the disease, but you never think it will affect you or someone you love; like some abstract, distant danger. My grandmother died of cancer, but it was so long ago that I never thought it could happen to my mother.
Tears, explanations, doctor’s appointments, like an avalanche, and, as it was happening, it seemed unreal. It was as if I was watching it all from a distance, like a scene I wasn’t even a part of. Every morning I woke up wishing it had all been a bad dream.
Then came the discussions about treatments, chemotherapy, mastectomy. I watched the life leave my mother’s body in a slow and painful process; I saw her lose her beautiful black hair, become so thin I was afraid to hug her too tightly. I sat with her for hours on the bathroom floor while she threw up after her chemotherapy sessions. She suffered so much. Why her? It’s a selfish question, but seeing my mother go through all that, watching her crawl slowly to her death, was the most painful thing I’ve ever witnessed—something that marked my life forever.
My mother always tried to stay strong, to fight, but I will neverforget the night we came home after the doctor told her that the cancer had spread to her lungs and there was nothing to be done. That she didn’t have much time left.
I help her to the bed and she pats the spot beside her. She hugs me close. “Everything will be fine, Klara.”
Tears flood my eyes, but I try to be strong for her. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”
She kisses my head. “You’re sorry? It’s not your fault, baby.”
“I wish…” My voice breaks. “I wish I could take all this pain away from you, I…” More tears stream down my face. “I would do anything for you, but I don’t know what to do.”
“I know.” Her voice sounds so sad. “I’m in so much pain, baby,” she says, crying.
My heart aches for her. I press my lips together, letting the tears come. “I know.”
“I’m ready to leave this world. I don’t want to suffer anymore; I want all this pain to end. I just can’t take it…” She takes my face in her hands. “I want you to know that I’m going willingly, peacefully, and I want you to listen to your sister, okay?”
I nod, unable to respond.
“I love you, Klara, I love you so much. You and your sister are the best gifts life has given me.”
“I love you so much, Mami.”
