Josh walked out of the hospital, deep in thought over the first time he had ever walked through those doors. He had been there so many times before, visiting his father who was suffering from lung cancer. He had been a very scared little eleven-year-old kid that first time. He did not know what to expect.
His mother had been at the house when Josh got home from school that day. It had been a good day at school. He was going to grab a snack and meet his buddies at the park. Only, when he walked in the door and saw his mother sitting at the table crying, Josh felt a deep dark pit in the bottom of his stomach.
He sat down at the table as his mother told him about how his father was in the hospital, that he had collapsed at work that day and been rushed to the hospital. Once there, tests showed that his father had lung cancer. As they found it late, the doctors were not sure if Josh’s father would survive, but started chemotherapy immediately. Josh did not know what to think or feel. He only felt the fear that his dad might not be around soon.
Josh went with his mother to the hospital to visit. Lying in the hospital bed with all of the tubes hooked into him, Josh thought his father looked so small.
Seven years later, Josh was walking back out the hospital door feeling everything he felt when he was eleven.
His father had managed to beat the cancer the first time; it went into remission for almost two years before it came back. Another round of treatments almost killed his father but his will to live was stronger than the cancer.
This time, the cancer was spreading. The doctors were afraid that Josh’s father was just too weak.
Like when he was a kid, Josh did not know how he should feel. He was afraid that his father was going to die but on the other hand Josh was afraid his dad would live. And live for what? Always being sick? Not being able to do the things that he used to?
Of course, the things he used to do with Josh stopped a long time ago.
Josh smiled a sad smile, as he thought about all the things they would do together. His dad had taught Josh how to play ball and how to build his first dirt bike. His father has owned a mechanic shop specializing in motorcycles. That shop was long gone, sold to pay for medical bills after his father became incapable of taking care of the business.
For a time, when he was a kid, Josh thought that one day he would take over his dad’s business and run the shop just like he’d been taught to.
But that was another dream that went up in smoke when his father became sick.
Smoke. Josh laughed bitterly. That’s what had brought them to that hospital in the first place.
Josh’s mom never let his dad smoke inside, but everywhere else that’s how he pictured him. His dark hair, stubbly chin, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His dad looked cool and tough, working on motorcycles, drinking a bottled beer and smoking with his buddies. Josh used to think some day, when he was fourteen or fifteen maybe, he would sneak one of his dad’s packs of Marlboro Reds and try them. But when learned that it was the tobacco that caused his dad to get so sick, Josh hated the cigarettes. They’d ruined his dad’s life and his life.
For a long time, Josh would get mad at his mom. In his eyes, it was also her fault that his dad was dying. She hadn’t tried make him quit smoking, after all.
Only when he was older did Josh’s mom tell him the truth: his dad had tried and failed to quit many times over the years. One of the big times was before Josh was born. His dad wanted Josh to be born into a healthy environment. It lasted for a few years, his mom said, but by the time Josh was off to pre-school the little cardboard packages were back to littering the garage. His dad was too hooked to get it out of his system.
Even knowing the truth, it was hard not to get mad. Josh felt like he had to be mad at someone or something. Mad at his father for smoking and getting sick. Mad at his mother because she let his father get away with smoking and now all her time was filled taking care of his father. She had no time for him and that made him angry. Then Josh would get mad at God for letting the sickness happen, for not answering his prayers.
Then he turned the anger in to himself. He was angry for feeling angry.
He did not want his father to know how afraid he was. He did not want to burden his mother any further with his feelings. Sometimes he even hated his father for being sick, that if his father went ahead and died then all of this would be over.
It seemed that he went between anger and guilt and fear. What a way to live!
He stopped hanging out with his friends after school, going straight home instead to help his mother with his father. No one told Josh that he had to be the man of the house; he just felt the need to do it.
He didn’t know what times were the worst: when his father was home or when he was in the hospital. When his father was home, Josh would eat his dinner with his father… that is, when his father could eat anything. When his father was in the hospital, Josh ate meals alone.
He didn’t mind being alone, really. In fact, he hardly ever he felt the loneliness. When he was by himself, he didn’t have to hide his feelings.
Sometimes he felt like he would just lose his mind.
Josh took a deep breath, exhaled the past, and saw Monica waiting for him.
He felt a stab of guilt, realizing that he should have left hours ago. He had promised Monica that he would help pick her car up from the shop, but he had forgotten. Sometimes he didn’t know why she had stayed with him those past two years. She didn’t look upset though, just smiled at him as he approached her car.
“Hey, handsome,” Monica said. “Car’s all fixed. Give you a ride?”
Josh tried to smile. Sometimes he felt like, because of his sick father, Monica treated him with kid gloves. He couldn’t complain though; she had stuck by his side.
They would both graduate this year. Monica was planning to attend college but there was just no way that Josh could go. He needed to go to work and help his mother with the bills. It was a big argument between them. When his mom started fussing at him about it, he would just clam up, go to his room, put his headphones on and get lost in the music. Over the years, he had gotten good at it, yet when the headphones came off it was back to reality.
And exactly what was his reality? All of his friends were into football and hanging out after the game. Josh did get to play football, at least, as his father loved to watch him play. It was the least Josh could do to make his father happy. His old man didn’t have much happiness in his life any more.
His father made it to what football games he could but, when he was there, Josh could see the pity in everyone’s eyes. And Josh hated that more than anything other than his father being sick. After the game, when all of his friends were staying for the dance or headed to their favorite pizza joint, Josh did not go.
Josh thought that, when he had a child, he would not put him through what he’d gone through with his family. Josh was not ever going to smoke, so his son would be able to go places and do the things that Josh could only dream.
A sense of longing overcame Josh as he climbed in the passenger seat of Monica’s car. He wished they could all go back in time; to the time before his father got sick.
As Monica pulled out of the parking lot, she said, “How’s your dad doing?”
“Still kicking,” Josh said. It was the best he could manage.
He wondered if anything would have been different, if his dad had actually given up the tobacco just once. It was like he wasn’t trying; like he couldn’t be bothered.
The times were not all bad and Josh knew that. He loved his father and would not give him up for anything. It just hurt so much.
At a stop light, Monica reached over to take Josh’s hand.
Josh did not know what the future held, but he hoped he could just enjoy the time he had with Monica. She would leave at the after the summer. He didn’t know when he would get to see her again. Maybe she’d go off to college and meet someone new and forget all about him.
Josh thought that would be for the best. She deserved so much more than he could offer her.
At the moment, he put a smile back on his face. He tried to forget about his father, and the cigarettes, and the way he wished his dad knew how much he was hurting. Tonight when he was alone in his bed, he would let himself cry.