Inspire Me

I always wondered what it meant to actually be inspired by someone, to have someone truly provoke a part of me that I was never able to reach previously. I wanted something new. I refused to be a product of my generation, where the only people considered not jaded were the ones who pretended not to care.

I knew the definition, I understood how it happened. But I hadn’t ever felt it. I could tell you what musician inspired me to start playing, or what helped me to write songs.

But I wanted someone to inspire me, a person that I could talk to that always kept me on my toes. I didn’t want traditional and easy conversation, I wanted a challenge. I wanted to mean something, to make a difference. I wanted to do something that mattered.

It’s not like I couldn’t do it by myself. But what would be the meaning in that? I didn’t want the credit; I wanted someone to incite it, to lead me there. Maybe it would be someone who infuriated me, or maybe it would be someone I didn’t know.

Inspiration wasn’t what helped to make decisions, it was what made me want to love, and think. There were people that had made me think more deeply, and I was capable of conversations based on existentialism and religion. I enjoyed the intellectuality that came along with meeting strangers. It always seemed easier to talk to people I didn’t know, maybe because I was less nervous of really telling them my beliefs.

I grew up with a lot of best friends. I partied and people loved me as much as I loved them. I got to travel around the world and listen to kids sing out loud to the lyrics I had written. I inspired them, and I wished there was any way the nameless faces could truly inspire me back. They of course made it all worth it, but not being able to put a name to them would never work.

It had felt like such a long time since I had been home. Arizona was the best place to go to truly relax. I left my heart there every time I left. We were driving back to Arizona tonight from a three month long tour. I couldn’t wait to see my family and sleep in my bed, but especially to see her.

As if on cue I heard Kennedy next to me, “Are you going to see Lucy?”

I smiled, “The second I get home.”

Kennedy smiled to himself, “I love that girl. Can you guys please just get married already?”

“I tell her that every day,” I joked.

I couldn’t wait to see her smile and hear her laugh. I hoped she was even awake, but if she wasn’t I didn’t care, just being near her was enough.

When we got home I jumped right in my car and drove to her house. I entered after just a simple knock and peered in to the large house.

“O’Brien’s…. I’m home,” I announced.

Her mom came out first, “Oh, John, I’m so glad you’re here. How was your trip?”

I hugged her before answering, “It was fantastic. I’d love to tell you more but…”

“She’s in her room,” Mrs. O’Brien smiled.

I thanked her before bounding up the stairs to the room I was so familiar with. I opened the door quietly and was glad I did because her eyes were closed and her breathing was heavy. She looked small and fragile, like she couldn’t get up out of that bed if she tried.

I pulled up the rocking chair next to her bed and tapped my foot impatiently. Finally I put my hand on her forearm and she stirred awake.

She opened her eyes and her face turned up into a smile, “John!”

I hugged her tight, trying to ignore how easy it was to wrap my arms around her.

“I missed you so much!” I exclaimed.

She pulled away and lay back down, smiling and taking in deep breaths, “You look hot.”

“So do you,” I winked.

I had known Lucy O’Brien since I was in first grade. Throughout elementary we were always next to each other in line, and in middle and high school we always sat next to each other. We joked about how we were perfect for each other, especially because our last names were so alike.

She was literally the apple of my eye. We did everything together without crossing the boundaries between friends and hormones. We won the couple that should have been in high school for the senior personalities. We had never kissed, never talked about our feelings for each other. It was kind of understood.

We dated other people but nothing would ever match up to what we had. I think in the back of both of our minds we knew. There was no rush to advance our relationship, because we knew it would always be there when we were both ready. No one else could fathom it, but that didn’t matter to us.

Sometimes life just got in the way.

She was diagnosed with cancer on October 19, 2010. Everyone’s life changed on that day. Suddenly this girl with the biggest smile and brightest eyes was losing her hair and all of her body weight.

But she didn’t care. She didn’t wear wigs or try to hide it. She even made jokes while in the hospital receiving chemo treatments. Most of the time it was like she didn’t even have cancer.

“How was tour!? Did you meet lots of people? I’m so jealous that you got to go all those places!” she gushed.

“It was so great, Lucy. I wish you could have seen it all. You got all my post cards right?” I asked.

“Of course,” she smiled, “They really made me feel better.”

“How has chemo been?” I asked.

She rubbed a hand over her nearly bald head, “Well I don’t have to worry about my roots showing anymore.”

I laughed and shook my head, “You are ridiculous.”

She chuckled, “It has sucked, but I’m almost done and the doctors are really pleased with me, so that’s good.”

“Well who wouldn’t be pleased with you?” I questioned.

“That’s true,” she said seriously.

“Are you feeling up to going out? It’s a really nice day,” I told her.

She grinned, “I thought you’d never ask.”

I helped her put on some jean shorts and a t-shirt because she was too weak. When I told her I didn’t think it was smart to go out, she punched my arm and told me to get over it.

“Should I carry you down the stairs?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said simply, “Like we just got married-- threshold style.”

I laughed and picked her up, cradling her in my arms. She had her arms wrapped around my neck and smiled at me the whole way down.

“You’re something else O’Brien,” I told her as I set her down in my car.

I ran to the driver’s side and we began driving. She immediately closed her eyes and hummed along to the Death Cab song coming through the speakers.

About halfway there she sighed and spoke unsteadily, “Hey John?”

“Yes, Lucy?” I asked.

“Can you pull over?”

I did as she asked and once the car stopped she opened the door and threw up all over the ground. I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned over so I could hold her hair back. I reached into my backseat and handed her some water that she gulped quickly before using a napkin to wipe her face.

She popped a mint in her mouth and closed the door, staring at her hands as she picked at her fingernails. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t apologize, Lucy,” I said, rubbing her back lightly, “I’ll take you home.”

“No, no,” she said desperately, “Let’s go.”

I reluctantly agreed and finished the drive. We got to the park we always went to and sat down at the bench that we always did. I bought us snow cones from a nearby vendor, hoping it would make her feel better.

“What’s on your mind, O’Callaghan?” she asked.

I shrugged, “Just thinking about everything you went through while I was gone.”

“I wasn’t alone, John,” she said, “I have other friends.”

“I know, I know. But I should have been there,” I said, honestly beating myself up over it.

“No, you shouldn’t have. John, you have so many kids that look up to you and you just made so many lives better by leaving me here,” she said, “Don’t apologize for something I would kill to do, please.”

Lucy had been the first person to hear me play guitar and sing. She made me sing her to sleep on the phone every once in a while. She could sing better than anyone, and our sing alongs in the car always got intense. Whenever I was informed that my voice was beautiful, I had to bite my tongue from telling them that they were completely wrong.

“I just worry about you,” I said solemnly.

“How does it feel, John?” she asked.

“How does what feel?”

“To inspire so many kids with just the simple songs you write?”

I looked at her strangely. She had always been able to practically read my mind, “It feels… unreal. Sometimes I don’t even think I deserve it.”

“Why not?”

“Because all of these kids fall in love with the words I write and the way I sing them, and some of the time it’s just completely effortless. They spend all this time learning the lyrics and I can’t really repay them,” I spilled all over. It didn’t matter though, because I couldn’t deny that when I go to sleep every night I think about the kids listening to the music I make, and I pray for them, because it gives me good dreams.

“I don’t think they expect you to repay them, John,” she said, empathetically, “You’re their inspiration.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” I said.

“You can handle it,” she smiled.

“Why do you have so much faith in me?” I asked.

“Because you’re the best man I know,” she replied without hesitation.

“You’re so strong, baby girl,” I said, taking her hand.

She gave me a tight smile that was extremely close to a frown. I saw her blue eyes fill up with tears and her nostrils flare. “Hey, hey what’s wrong?”

“I’m scared, Johnny,” she admitted, “I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t,” I told her, because it was honestly what I believed.

“You don’t know that. I wish you would just tell me that I could die,” she said, looking like she wished she could take the words back.

“I can’t lie to you, Lucy. If it’s not something I believe I can’t tell you that,” I said.

“Why do you think that?” she asked.

I squeezed her hand and made her look at me, “Because God isn’t ready for you quite yet, and I’m definitely not ready for you to be gone.”

She laughed and wiped her eyes, “Well then I guess I’ll hold on a little bit longer.”

“How are you so strong?” I asked.

“I have to be,” she shrugged, “If I’m not… I’ll die. It’s awesome motivation.”

“What inspires you?” I asked.

She looked into my eyes and tried to read me. I did my best to make it seem like it was just a question, but she knew it was because I was insecure about something.

“You, silly,” she said simply.

“Shut up,” I laughed.

“No, really. I mean, when I feel like not going through chemo anymore, I think that it will just bring me one day closer to being better so that we can go out and be normal again. And then I think of you having the time of your life on the road I know that my dreams could come true, too. You love what you do, and I love you for that.”

“So how does that make me inspiring?” I asked.

“It doesn’t, I was just inflating your ego,” she grinned at her joke.

I laughed softly and sighed, “Be serious.”

She continued, “What makes you inspiring is that you make me feel like I don’t have cancer. You don’t treat me differently. You’re able to look past this disease that’s killing me, and I don’t understand how you do it. But to me, that’s perfect.

“But most of all, you inspire me because every day I count down until you come home, just so I can see you smile. That’s inspiration, right? The thing that wakes you up in the morning and makes you love being alive?” she asked.

And at that moment I knew what inspiration was, and who it was. It’s that person that I wanted to come home to, the person I adored. That one person on this earth that makes me feel comfortable in every aspect. They would be my motivation to do better, to be better. It was selfish to try to find someone who provoked every emotion I thought I had never felt. Because I had felt it, and she was right in front of me.

Lucy O’Brien was my inspiration. I knew that I had always known, but this wasn’t something I had to wait for. This frail girl with an almost constant grin was what I had been looking for all along, I was just ignoring it.

She made me want to live my life to the best of my natural ability. She woke me up in the morning. She made me feel things in my chest that no one could ever match.

I knew there was always a part of my heart that belonged to Lucy, but now I was aware that she held all of it. It was so cliché and petty, but I loved her. So while life was still in the way and this disease that was trying to tear us apart could win at any time, I knew it wouldn’t.

Whether she lived or died or was never ever the same, she would always be in my heart. Because once you inspire someone once, that’s all it takes.