Opposites Attract
My Past
"My father and I were really close. He used to be a professional dancer, and when I showed an interest in dance and then a natural aptitude, he was really supportive about it. He signed me up to my first class, he helped me practice to get on to the competitive team, he encouraged me through my failures and was there when I sprained my ankle in seattle at a competition. He was my reason and inspiration for dance. But then he died."
"How--" Alex started to ask but Lily held up a hand to signal she wasn't finished.
"He started to get these horrible headaches, that he would have to go lie down just to bare them, he was really tired, and well he just wasn't himself. Finally, we were in New York, during one of my competitions, and he fainted. Thankfully, my mom came with us this time, so she was with me when we took him to the hospital. I was disqualified from the competition, which if I placed in the top 20, I could have headed off to the national level, but I didn't care.
"We were in the hospital for an hour before someone came out to tell us that he was stabilized, but an x-ray showed a larger tumor on his brain. They weren't hopeful, I knew at that moment, that there was a real possibility that he would die. I was eleven.
"When we returned home, things changed, a lot. He couldn't come to my practices, and I cut back on the long-distance competitions so we would be close to his doctor more often. I could see him slowly withering away before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do. I never felt so helpless in my life." Lily's voice cracked, and she paused, rubbing her face.
"After a few months, the doctors were suggesting a palliative care centre, so he could be as comfortable as possible at the end of his life. I sort of accepted it, but I would not think about what would happen at the end of his visit.
"It was October 20, 2005 when he finally died. And I was a mess, I wasn't sleeping, I was barely eating, and I didn't talk to my friends that much anymore. I not proud of this, but I even started hurting myself." Alex eyes widened.
"I was quite alone, my mom was barely coping, so we could hardly talk, and I had no siblings. My nanny was wonderful, but she couldn't take working for us without my father, so she left. I heard about kids cutting themselves and I always thought it was dumb and just a need for attention, but I understand it way better now. My mom was out and something--- I don't remember what now--- just triggered my memory of my father, and I started bawling. My head and heart, physically felt like they were in pain, at that moment, I didn't think of my family or my life, I just thought of how I didn't want to breathe anymore, I didn't have a reason.
"I was young and stupid, but I took a knife and I cut my leg, it helped for some weird reason, because instead of focusing on my emotional pain, all I could think about was the stinging in my leg. I did this for a long time before anyone noticed.
"My mom caught sight of my leg, and was horrified, not at me, but at herself for not being there for me and helping me cope. She was well connected and got me one of the best psychiatrists at the time. The psychiatrist helped me cope, and taught me that it is okay to be upset, but not to let it rule my life. I know it sounds cliche, but my dad would want me to be happy.
"So I tried, I picked up dance again, it was something we shared, and it made me feel close to him. It really helped me when I was sad, the emotions just poured out of me when I dance. I also took up writing, which helped me to organize my thoughts and emotions. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him. But my thoughts aren't clouded with anger and sorrow, but rather remembrance to all the great moments we shared." Lily smiled serenely.
"If your dad dies, it is going to hurt like hell. But you will grow up, and learn to live with the pain, and I can help you the best way I can. But you shouldn't hurt your body as you grieve." Lily said quietly.
"What are you talking about?" Alex asked.
"This." Lily responded as she reached into Alex's jacket pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes.
"I know. I'm really trying to be better. But I can't, sometimes, I just can't."
"How--" Alex started to ask but Lily held up a hand to signal she wasn't finished.
"He started to get these horrible headaches, that he would have to go lie down just to bare them, he was really tired, and well he just wasn't himself. Finally, we were in New York, during one of my competitions, and he fainted. Thankfully, my mom came with us this time, so she was with me when we took him to the hospital. I was disqualified from the competition, which if I placed in the top 20, I could have headed off to the national level, but I didn't care.
"We were in the hospital for an hour before someone came out to tell us that he was stabilized, but an x-ray showed a larger tumor on his brain. They weren't hopeful, I knew at that moment, that there was a real possibility that he would die. I was eleven.
"When we returned home, things changed, a lot. He couldn't come to my practices, and I cut back on the long-distance competitions so we would be close to his doctor more often. I could see him slowly withering away before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do. I never felt so helpless in my life." Lily's voice cracked, and she paused, rubbing her face.
"After a few months, the doctors were suggesting a palliative care centre, so he could be as comfortable as possible at the end of his life. I sort of accepted it, but I would not think about what would happen at the end of his visit.
"It was October 20, 2005 when he finally died. And I was a mess, I wasn't sleeping, I was barely eating, and I didn't talk to my friends that much anymore. I not proud of this, but I even started hurting myself." Alex eyes widened.
"I was quite alone, my mom was barely coping, so we could hardly talk, and I had no siblings. My nanny was wonderful, but she couldn't take working for us without my father, so she left. I heard about kids cutting themselves and I always thought it was dumb and just a need for attention, but I understand it way better now. My mom was out and something--- I don't remember what now--- just triggered my memory of my father, and I started bawling. My head and heart, physically felt like they were in pain, at that moment, I didn't think of my family or my life, I just thought of how I didn't want to breathe anymore, I didn't have a reason.
"I was young and stupid, but I took a knife and I cut my leg, it helped for some weird reason, because instead of focusing on my emotional pain, all I could think about was the stinging in my leg. I did this for a long time before anyone noticed.
"My mom caught sight of my leg, and was horrified, not at me, but at herself for not being there for me and helping me cope. She was well connected and got me one of the best psychiatrists at the time. The psychiatrist helped me cope, and taught me that it is okay to be upset, but not to let it rule my life. I know it sounds cliche, but my dad would want me to be happy.
"So I tried, I picked up dance again, it was something we shared, and it made me feel close to him. It really helped me when I was sad, the emotions just poured out of me when I dance. I also took up writing, which helped me to organize my thoughts and emotions. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him. But my thoughts aren't clouded with anger and sorrow, but rather remembrance to all the great moments we shared." Lily smiled serenely.
"If your dad dies, it is going to hurt like hell. But you will grow up, and learn to live with the pain, and I can help you the best way I can. But you shouldn't hurt your body as you grieve." Lily said quietly.
"What are you talking about?" Alex asked.
"This." Lily responded as she reached into Alex's jacket pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes.
"I know. I'm really trying to be better. But I can't, sometimes, I just can't."