I sat on the wooden swing, looking out over the lake. It was a quiet, serene stillness- a few ducks were swimming, and the rowboat lay in the cattails to my left.<\/p>\n

\u201cKnishes!\u201d<\/p>\n

I spun around to see James come around the corner of the greenhouse. He walked lazily, with an odd bounce to his step. I groaned. \u201cAw! Now I remember!\u201d He sat down next to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe we forgot what they were called! Mom made them for every one of your birthdays!\u201d<\/p>\n

James leaned back, arms behind his head. \u201cYeah\u2026she\u2019d serve them up with eggs and bacon. That was my favorite meal.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWas?\u201d I was surprised.<\/p>\n

He spoke softly, almost regretfully. \u201cWell, I haven\u2019t had a whole lot of time to indulge in favorite foods anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t have anything to say. Normally, I would have elaborated on how he\u2019d squirt mustard all over the things and burn his tongue eating too fast. But I got a big lump in my throat before I said anything, so I sat, waiting for the words.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s been five years since you left, James.\u201d As if that wasn\u2019t the most obvious statement I could come up with.<\/p>\n

He thought for a while. \u201cYeah, five. Long time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d I tried a grin, but it came out like a twitch. \u201cFive years since your last knish.\u201d<\/p>\n

He frowned, thinking. \u201cNo, I think I had my last one on my fifteenth birthday. That\u2019d be\u2026eleven years.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Don\u2019t say it. Don\u2019t think about it. \u201cThat was the year you were diagnosed.\u201d I said it.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. That\u2019s when tradition kinda died.\u201d He looked away, and I knew what he was thinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh. Cancer has a way of doing that to a family.\u201d Why am I relying on sarcasm to carry on a conversation? I regretted saying it as soon as it left my teeth.<\/p>\n

He rounded on me for that. \u201cDad!\u201d Yeah, he understood where that came from. \u201cI had a happy childhood. You and mom couldn\u2019t have raised me any better than you did.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat, rubbing my temples and trying to fix it. \u201cAnd yet, I still feel like we didn\u2019t do enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean? You put me in chemo! Not many people have the kind of money to do that!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I still owe money on the loans I took out, but that\u2019s not too big a deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

I felt like an idiot. What am I doing, spouting all this crap about not doing enough? I did what I could. I went to my friends and got help from them. Was I feeling insecure about it all? I wanted to change the subject, but I couldn\u2019t seem to stay away from the obvious.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was hard when you left, James.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed and closed his eyes. \u201cIt was harder for me.\u201d He stretched his legs out towards the lake. The sun was starting to set, and the trees dotting the edges were turning into silhouettes. \u201cAfter we stopped the treatments\u2026I had to move on.\u201d<\/p>\n

I remembered that, all right. \u201cYou were getting too sick, and it\u2019d been, what? Five years?\u201d Five years of torture.<\/p>\n

He looked pained. \u201cI wanted to stop. It wasn\u2019t natural.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked over at him, surprised. \u201cShould I have done something else?\u201d A wave of guilt left me dripping, helpless.<\/p>\n

He knew it, too. \u201cNo! You did enough!\u201d This from the kid who went through hell for half his childhood.<\/p>\n

I went on. \u201cBecause I would have gone somewhere else! I would have looked myself, instead of listening to the doctor.\u201d I silently began remembering the names of the people involved in the treatment.<\/p>\n

James countered quickly. \u201cNo! Dad! Listen to me! Listen!\u201d I snapped out of writing my mental hit list as he grabbed my shoulder. \u201cYou did everything you could! I chose to stop, not you! Remember? Five years of me throwing up and losing my hair and worrying you and mom to death. I wanted to stop.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked away. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. You\u2019d think I\u2019d be over this by now. I don\u2019t know why, but I\u2019m not.\u201d I couldn\u2019t put it out of my memory. I thought it was done, but I kept finding little shards of a window I\u2019d thought was fixed. It was painful, and I knew that with every tiny splinter, there was a bigger one lodged below it.<\/p>\n

The lake began to buzz with the crickets as the sun got lower on the horizon. The wind picked up a bit, making the cattails blow around and the water push the rowboat up and down on the bank.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t ready for you to leave. It was too soon after.\u201d Why, oh why, couldn\u2019t I change the subject?<\/p>\n

He bowed his head, and I saw a small grin work its way around his mouth. The grin that told me he had a trick up his sleeve. \u201cWell, at least I didn\u2019t run off like you.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was startling. Wow\u2026that\u2026 \u201cWhat?\u201d I couldn\u2019t believe it. How’d he- \u201cHow do you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

The grin got wider, and he knew he\u2019d won that one. \u201cOh, mom told me years ago. She said she met you in a trucker\u2019s diner.\u201d<\/p>\n

I got the kink out of my neck and tried to remember why I ran away in the first place. \u201cYeah, I had hitched a ride. She was on duty at the counter when I walked in, so I started up a conversation.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow old were you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmm.\u201d It was a birthday. \u201cMaybe nineteen. Yeah, nineteen.\u201d That\u2019s right; a man\u2019s liberty takes over at some point. \u201cI ran away on my birthday.\u201d A true man leaves his father and mother and cleaves to the open road right about then.<\/p>\n

James looked surprised. \u201cNineteen? Wow.\u201d He ran his hands through his hair, which was curly, and sat like an animal on his head. He pointed at the rotting rowboat, beginning to fill up with water. \u201cYou built that boat for my nineteenth birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes, that- no, wait. \u201cNo, that was your eighteenth. Remember? That was the year we thought we beat it, before we knew it spread somewhere else.\u201d The thoughts and emotions from that day, that very second the doctor said it, rushed back and almost knocked me over. I lay back on the swing like a dead man.<\/p>\n

James noticed it, but he said nothing other than, \u201cOh.\u201d We both watched the sun ease behind the tallest oak on the other side of the lake.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was the purpose?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me, confused. \u201cThe purpose?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d I looked down at my shoes to see if they could help me out. \u201cYou know, there\u2019s a reason for everything.\u201d I said that a little sarcastically, but it was true. \u201cWhat was the reason for your cancer? How did it benefit anyone?\u201d<\/p>\n

He watched a duck waddle out of the water to his right. \u201cWell, remember the doctors? And nurses? You and mom were really nice to everybody, so that probably made it easier for them.\u201d<\/p>\n

This was probably true, but I refused to admit everyone was angelic. \u201cWell, we wouldn\u2019t have to be nice if you hadn\u2019t gotten sick in the first place.\u201d Whoops. Maybe that was too condemning. Try to fix it. \u201cRemember the doctor with six fingers?\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed out loud at this. I hadn\u2019t seen him do that for a decade. \u201cYes! I had nightmares about that for a year!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally? You said you thought it was cool.\u201d That was a strange day.<\/p>\n

James sat staring upwards, remembering. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to hurt his feelings. After staring at it for about a minute, I needed some excuse.\u201d He laughed again- a huge belly laugh, and I laughed back. \u201cAnd after I stopped having nightmares, I thought about how handy an extra finger could be.\u201d He looked at his own hand and flexed his fingers.<\/p>\n

I wanted to congratulate him. \u201cWell, I\u2019m pretty sure you made his day. He came up to me afterwards and told me how respectful and well-behaved you were. It\u2026\u201d Oh man, I better not get all emotional. \u201cIt made me proud to be your father.\u201d I thought about how sappy this was becoming. I hated sentimental movies right about now.<\/p>\n

I looked over and saw James sitting with his eyes and mouth closed like a Tupperware. I decided to ask the question again. \u201cSo what purpose did it serve to give you cancer? You were a perfect kid. What was there to prove?\u201d I honestly wanted to know what he thought.<\/p>\n

He opened his mouth to answer. \u201cProve? It had to prove something?\u201d I think my eyes started bugging out of my head as he said this. \u201cWhat if it proved nothing? What if nothing came of it?\u201d<\/p>\n

So this was his idea of suffering? Take it like a man and don\u2019t ask why? \u201cThen\u2026what was the reason?\u201d<\/p>\n

He crossed his arms like Christopher Reeves. The pathos left just as quickly as it came. \u201cMaybe nothing. Does it matter?\u201d<\/p>\n

I was about to stay quiet and hope the subject changed by itself, but something was bothering me. No, more than a bother- it was stupid. I couldn\u2019t believe he just said that. \u201cWait\u2026 what do you mean, \u2018nothing\u2019?\u201d What was he thinking? Is this heroic? Is this his idea of justice? I didn\u2019t get it.<\/p>\n

He let me get a little angrier before asking, \u201cDo you remember when you first took me out driving?\u201d I looked away. I didn\u2019t want to answer. \u201cDo you?\u201d He was persisting.<\/p>\n

I summoned the day back to my head. I played and replayed the scene like a home movie. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know how old I was?\u201d I knew, but I didn\u2019t answer. \u201cI was 20. I was in pain, but I didn\u2019t want to show it, because I didn\u2019t want to stop driving.\u201d Now that I didn\u2019t know. \u201cRemember what I asked you? When I stopped at the light and saw that mac truck roll by?\u201d<\/p>\n

I remember all right. \u201cYou asked if it would matter to anybody if you threw yourself in front of the truck.\u201d<\/p>\n

He pushed me on. \u201cAnd do you remember what you said?\u201d<\/p>\n

What I said? Um\u2026 \u201cI said it would matter to the truck driver.\u201d<\/p>\n

That didn\u2019t throw him. \u201cYeah, but you said something else. You said it wouldn\u2019t prove anything, except that I gave up.\u201d I knew, and I stayed quiet. \u201cYou said, \u2018James, all you would prove is that human beings are weak and won\u2019t fight if it\u2019s too hard.\u2019 Remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

I lied. \u201cNot really.\u201d<\/p>\n

He went on. \u201cWell, then what would prove something? Wouldn\u2019t me fighting back against the cancer, and you fighting back against the cancer, and both of us working together, prove something? What else is there to prove?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?!\u201d He honestly didn\u2019t know? \u201cAfter all that, all we have left is strength? Or- hope? Both of those things die, James! Give them enough time, and you lose your strength! Wait until the next doctor\u2019s report, and all your hope dies.\u201d And I believed it, too.<\/p>\n

He looked at me like I was crazy. \u201cSo what are you asking? What else is there to do? It\u2019s over!\u201d<\/p>\n

I sat up. There was nothing left to lose. \u201cIsn\u2019t there some other road I can take? Isn\u2019t there some peace I could find? All the memories I have of your cancer are memories of pain.\u201d I slammed the bench\u2019s arm, hard. \u201cAll that comes to mind is me in the bedroom, crying my guts out and wishing I could discover some magic pill to give you and make your pain go away.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was hurting him, even while I said it. But I hurt more, and I was sure of it. \u201cWhen I looked at you lying in bed, throwing up in a bucket and going through every pain imaginable, I wanted to kill myself.\u201d My voice got higher and louder. The ducks started flying away. \u201cThat question you asked about the truck; I was talking to me. If I didn\u2019t keep telling myself how much you needed me, how much you depended on me, how much you loved me, I would have thrown myself in front of the same truck. All I remember is misery. All I remember is financial struggle.\u201d I finished my tirade and sat silent.<\/p>\n

He looked at me, and asked quietly, \u201cDo you know what I remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

I covered my face with my hands. \u201cNo. I don\u2019t want to.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes you do.\u201d I guess I did. \u201cDad, the whole time, from the moment I got the news until the moment I quit the medication; I felt peace. Every time I saw you talking with a doctor or holding mom\u2019s hand in the hallway, or stroking my head when you thought I was asleep. I felt peace, and joy, and I could go on feeling miserable, because I had peace.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh, so it\u2019s his turn to rant, huh? Well, it was ridiculous. \u201cHow could you have peace?\u201d<\/p>\n

He straightened up, justified. \u201cI knew that my suffering would probably help someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n

Okay, now that was ridiculous. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

He leaned back again and assumed the wise man look. \u201cWell, I got cancer. What was I going to do? Complain? Act like a martyr and whine and make myself more miserable? Why not try to be the best cancer patient the hospital ever saw? Why not share the joy you taught me with the doctors?\u201d<\/p>\n

It still didn\u2019t make sense. \u201cOkay, but peace? How could you have peace when you were on your way to dying and the cancer kept appearing?\u201d Just the thought of those huge purple things on the cat scan-<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d He grinned. \u201cBecause I knew that you were there and weren\u2019t going to run away like you did when you were nineteen.\u201d<\/p>\n

I snorted and stood up. Snorting and standing up are good ways to discourage the arguments in a conversation. \u201cWhat a peaceful thought.\u201d I started pacing. \u201cSo it\u2019s been five years since we left the hospital. Have you seen any repercussions you started?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho knows?\u201d He shrugged. \u201cIt might have effects ten, twenty, a hundred years in the future. We can\u2019t decide when anything happens after we leave it alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huh? Again? \u201cBut what if nothing happens?\u201d I turned around and stared at him. \u201cWhat happens when nothing happens?\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave me the look I hated- the one where he stares at you and you know you\u2019re wrong. I hated it, because he was always right. \u201cDoes anything need to happen now?\u201d<\/p>\n

No way. This can\u2019t be happening. I\u2019ve stayed alive on the hope that something changed, or got better. I wasn\u2019t about to give that thought up too easily. \u201cJames, it\u2019s been five years! FIVE YEARS!\u201d I was yelling at the top of my lungs.<\/p>\n

He kept his voice low, but sharp enough that I wouldn\u2019t mistake him for backing down. \u201cMust something happen for you? Is that what you want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d I yelled. This wasn\u2019t fair. \u201cI went through all that! I lost those years! Why shouldn\u2019t I get something back?\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed a rock and threw it away from me. It arced out over the water and splashed into the middle of the lake. Ducks and geese took off from the grass beyond, and the noise they made drowned out the sob that escaped my throat. I watched the ripples move outwards and fade.<\/p>\n

There was no denying that fear. That fear of selfishness in a time when my son needed selfless love in abundance. I realized that all the emotions I\u2019d crammed into my heart had stayed there for five years, and only now were they surfacing.<\/p>\n

James\u2019s voice behind me interrupted my thoughts. \u201cSo it\u2019s about you, then.\u201d<\/p>\n

I slumped to the ground. My forehead hit my knees and my hands covered my hair. When I spoke, my voice was muffled by my jeans. \u201cYeah. It\u2019s about me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I heard him shift in his seat. His voice assumed a parental air. \u201cWell, I can\u2019t do anything about that.\u201d<\/p>\n

I agreed. \u201cYou can\u2019t. I needed to find that. It\u2019s been haunting me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe more you talk, the more you might dig up.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was right. I had dug this up, and I had no idea how much was left. If I really cared about him, and his sickness, and his comfort, I wouldn\u2019t have holed it all up. I would have gotten it out and left it lying in a big pile to be burned, like so many leaves. But instead, I\u2019d held onto it like a raft, and now it was dragging me down.<\/p>\n

I wanted to let him know all this. \u201cIt\u2019s my own selfishness.\u201d I picked my head up and twisted around until I could see him. \u201cI\u2019ve been ignoring it, and convincing myself that it wasn\u2019t, but I never dealt with it.\u201d He lounged on the bench like it was the most comfortable chair he\u2019d ever sat in. \u201cThing is, how can I overcome my own selfish feelings and thoughts, when you\u2019re the one who had to suffer?\u201d<\/p>\n

He questioned me ruthlessly. \u201cDad, it\u2019s been five years. Who\u2019s suffering?\u201d<\/p>\n

I opened my mouth to tell him it was a one-time outburst, but I had to stop. \u201cI\u2019m suffering.\u201d<\/p>\n

He continued. \u201cAnd the only reason you\u2019re suffering is because you don\u2019t see any results. All you see is pain and anger and helplessness and ruin.\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s not the only reason. \u201cYes. And you\u2019re gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled, not at all cynically. \u201cSo would you like to know what was affected?\u201d<\/p>\n

Why not? I wanted to know so badly before. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d He crossed his arms again and looked up. \u201cRemember the doctor with six fingers?\u201d I nodded. \u201cWell, after that day, he went home and questioned his own self-worth. Through that questioning, he met a God who loved him for who he was in his heart, and not for some of his oddities on the outside.\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew I was going to regret this. The wind started to blow again, and I hugged my knees to stay warm.<\/p>\n

“And do you remember the nurse who was so shaken when I heard that the cancer metastasized in my brain? She was crying after I came out of the scan. You went and comforted her, and told her you hadn\u2019t given up yet, and you were going to fight it. She went home and gave up on her suicide plans, because she knew that if the father of a cancer patient hadn\u2019t given up, she wouldn\u2019t give up treating them.”<\/p>\n

\u201cOh God.\u201d There was nothing else for me to do but sit and weep.<\/p>\n

He went on, speaking softly, joyfully. \u201cAnd do you remember the last ten minutes of my life? You took me out in that boat and we just talked. We talked about everything. The beach, dogs, birthdays. And remember? I fell asleep when you were just remembering the name for those little potato pockets mom always cooked.\u201d<\/p>\n

I smiled through my quaking sobs. \u201cKnishes.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was beautiful to listen to. And the more he spoke, the more relief I found. \u201cAnd the service you had. You invited all the doctors and nurses who treated me. And you told them all about how much you loved me and thanked them all for their hard work and support. And do you know what every one of them did afterwards?\u201d I shook my head slowly, haltingly. \u201cThey went back to work with a fervor. They knew they could make a difference in people\u2019s lives, and curing the patient would only make it better. Dad- you did all that.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was still shaking my head as I wiped my eyes. The silence around the lake as the last light framed the trees against the sky wasn\u2019t as overwhelming as before. In fact, it was the first silence I wasn\u2019t eager to break. For once in fifteen years, I felt pure relief, and there was no looming feeling of doom in the background. I could breathe unrestricted, and feel good about it.<\/p>\n

James, smiling as he lounged like a monarch, looked as pleased as he could. \u201cDo you still need results?\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew now. \u201cNo. Not anymore. I\u2026\u201d I wiped my face on my sleeve and stood up. \u201cI think I can live with that.\u201d I walked over and sat back down next to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d be surprised.\u201d He reached over and gave me a sideways-hug.<\/p>\n

I hugged him back and sighed. \u201cI needed to get that out. I\u2019m sorry, James. I can be a pretty lousy person.\u201d<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t try to contradict me, and I didn\u2019t expect him too. \u201cWell, as long as you keep that in mind, you can overcome it. You helped me\u2026now it\u2019s my turn to give some of that back. Alright?\u201d He grinned.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sun disappeared behind the horizon as he looked at me, and then at the ground. \u201cI\u2019ve got to go.\u201d He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. \u201cI love you, dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at him standing there above me, and realized that I was never going to see him again. It was a regret that struck deep within my heart, and yet, again, there was peace about it. I stood up next to him. \u201cI love you, James. It was-\u201d No, not was. That\u2019s not right, and never will be. \u201c-It is\u2026 a pleasure to be your dad.\u201d I offered my hand.<\/p>\n

He shook it, with a strong grip, and looked directly into my eyes. In them, I saw eternity. \u201cI\u2019m proud to be your son. Proud and joyful. I\u2019ll see you soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

He dropped my hand, gave me one last grin, and walked away, by the lake. As he passed the rowboat, lying serenely on the bank, he looked back. My eyes watered up again, and I wiped them quickly. When I could see again, he was gone.<\/p>\n

The clouds over the water were losing their reddish glow and the crickets were chirruping happily as I whispered, \u201cThank you, God,\u201d and walked away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I sat on the wooden swing, looking out over the lake. It was a quiet, serene stillness- a few ducks were swimming, and the rowboat lay in the cattails to my left. \u201cKnishes!\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[909],"tags":[194,237,296,304,361,409,464,709,774],"class_list":["post-734","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-creative","tag-conversation","tag-despair","tag-faith","tag-father","tag-god","tag-hope","tag-knishes","tag-rowboat","tag-son"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n