Cancer
Cancer
He was dying and I couldn’t do anything about it. I sat next to his bedside for hours every day, praying to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in, that he would pull through and live. He was okay with the fact he only had a few weeks left to live, we had talked about it many times. His only wish was that after he was gone I wouldn’t let it ruin my life. I would remember him, but I had to keep on living. I had to go on with my life and live through the loss.
Sitting next to him that day, holding his hand while he slept, I whispered, “Please God, if you can hear me, don’t take him away, he isn’t done living. Take his pain away, but please, please, don’t take him.” I was so stressed, the last words were barely audible, and my eyes stung, tears threatening to pour down my face.
While he slept all I could do was think. I would think about all the times he chased me around our apartment, all the dates we went on, all the times we went to our parent’s houses, knowing they hated the other for changing their child. The walks through the park, and the nights we would stay up and watch horror movies. All the comics we read together, and all the poorly drawn pictures, we had drawn of each other. Every memory that passed brought along a painful stab in my gut. I couldn’t take thinking of not having him in my life.
Slowly I stood up, still holding his pale and fragile hand; I bent my head down to his sleeping figure and pressed my lips to his forehead.
He slowly opened his hazel eyes and smiled. Seeing he had woke up, I took my free hand and ran it through his raven hair.
“How are you feeling?”
Trying to sit up, he replied, “Okay.” And coughed.
WE sat there in silence for a few minutes, trying to think of something to say to the other.
“The doctors say I only have a few days left.” Squeezing my hand gently, he stared into my eyes that had tears forming inside them, continuing he started to sing, “If you say goodbye today, I’d ask you to be true. Cause the hardest part of this, is leaving you.”
His voice made me so sad, to know that he was sick, but his voice was still so strong. All I could do was look into his eyes. His eyes that had once held so much joy and happiness, now held pain and sadness.
A nurse then came in and put her hand on my shoulder saying, “Mr. Iero? We need you to leave for a few minutes.”
Fear entered Gerard’s eyes and he said, “Please don’t make him leave.” He squeezed my hand hard and I realized what was making him freak. Needles. They were using needles on him.
I pulled the nurse over and said, “Are you giving him a shot or something?”
“Yes.” She replied.
“Then it would probably better if I stayed in here.”
“But Mr.-”
I cut her off, “It can’t be against hospital rules or whatever. It would be easier for you if you just let me stay.”
Impatiently, she replied, “Fine.” And walked over to Gerard’s bed. “Mr. Way? Mr. Iero’s going to star in here with you.”
He visibly relaxed when the nurse told him that. He went from every muscle tense to slumping against the four pillows that were piled behind him. I laughed to myself; he had always used multiple pillows at home. Some things don’t change.
I walked back over to him and entwined our fingers together. I then whispered to him, “Everything’s fine.” When they came toward him with the syringe that was filled with a light blue liquid. As soon as Gerard saw the syringe his eyes widened in horror, his hand squeezed mine, and every muscle in his body tensed.
“Gerard, relax or it will hurt even more.” I whispered in his ear when I saw his eyes close tightly. He then relaxed a little, but not much.
The nurse was on the other side of Gerard and I saw her open her mouth to tell Gerard she was going to insert the needle, but I caught her attention and started shaking my head violently. I knew he would be better if he didn’t know it was coming.
Minutes later the nurse was gone and Gerard was back to his normal calm self.
“So why did they have to give you a shot?” I asked him.
“Not sure, I prefer not to know.”
Once again silence consumed the room and I noticed Gerard yawning so I told him to go to sleep.
“Go home and get some sleep. My mom should be here soon. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
As I left the room I heard him snoring and I thought to myself that I will worry, since I know he will never sleep next to me again.
…
A few hours later I was woken up by the sound of Gerard’s wonderful voice. In other words my phone was ringing. I didn’t bother to check who it was; I just opened it and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Frank get to the hospital.” I immediately knew the voice, it was Mikey, Gerard’s little brother, and I could hear the tears in his voice.
“Oh God, not now.” I shut the phone and quickly threw on some clean clothes and drove to the hospital.
When I got to the hospital and walked into Gerard’s room I saw his mom sitting in a chair crying with his dad behind her, our friends Ray and Bob standing with Mikey, and a pale, sick looking Gerard.
I rushed right over to his bedside, “Oh Gerard how could you have gotten so bad?”
He coughed, “Frank remember, don’t cry too hard for me, and I love you. I always have and I always will.” He smiled at me and started to sing again, “Turn away if you couldn’t get me a drink of water cause my lips are chapped and faded call my aunt Marie, help her gather all my things and bury me in all my favorite colors, my sisters and my brothers still, I will not kiss you cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.” He smiled at me again and I put my hand in his. “Frankie, remember that hardest part of this is leaving you.” He then used his other and touched his pointer finger to my chest, right over my heart.
I leaned down and kissed the love of my life, then rested my forehead against his, “Gerard, I will never forget you, I will live on until we meet again. And until then I will always love you.”
“I love you Frank.” He whispered.
“I love you to Gee.” He then took his last breath and I stood back up.
Hand still in his I whispered, “I will never forget you baby.”
I took my hand out of his and faced his family and our friends.
“Frank, we never loved the fact that our son was gay for you, but we know he loved you and you loved him, so thank you.”
I nodded my answer to Gerard’s dad and turned toward Mikey. With tears staining both of our cheeks I wrapped him in a hug.
In the days that followed I cried a lot, and Gerard’s funeral was held. All I could think was that he would have loved it. After his beautiful coffin that held his beautiful body was placed in the ground, I worked hard to not cry too much for him, just as he wanted.
Every day, not matter what the weather was like I went to Gerard’s grave and sat for hours. I would talk to the open air about everything, just like when Gerard had been around. Every time I went I felt less lonely when I left. I would see Gerard again one day and until that day came I would come to his grave and talk to him, because I know he might not be with me but somewhere he’s looking out for me, and he’s listening to my every word.
Sitting next to him that day, holding his hand while he slept, I whispered, “Please God, if you can hear me, don’t take him away, he isn’t done living. Take his pain away, but please, please, don’t take him.” I was so stressed, the last words were barely audible, and my eyes stung, tears threatening to pour down my face.
While he slept all I could do was think. I would think about all the times he chased me around our apartment, all the dates we went on, all the times we went to our parent’s houses, knowing they hated the other for changing their child. The walks through the park, and the nights we would stay up and watch horror movies. All the comics we read together, and all the poorly drawn pictures, we had drawn of each other. Every memory that passed brought along a painful stab in my gut. I couldn’t take thinking of not having him in my life.
Slowly I stood up, still holding his pale and fragile hand; I bent my head down to his sleeping figure and pressed my lips to his forehead.
He slowly opened his hazel eyes and smiled. Seeing he had woke up, I took my free hand and ran it through his raven hair.
“How are you feeling?”
Trying to sit up, he replied, “Okay.” And coughed.
WE sat there in silence for a few minutes, trying to think of something to say to the other.
“The doctors say I only have a few days left.” Squeezing my hand gently, he stared into my eyes that had tears forming inside them, continuing he started to sing, “If you say goodbye today, I’d ask you to be true. Cause the hardest part of this, is leaving you.”
His voice made me so sad, to know that he was sick, but his voice was still so strong. All I could do was look into his eyes. His eyes that had once held so much joy and happiness, now held pain and sadness.
A nurse then came in and put her hand on my shoulder saying, “Mr. Iero? We need you to leave for a few minutes.”
Fear entered Gerard’s eyes and he said, “Please don’t make him leave.” He squeezed my hand hard and I realized what was making him freak. Needles. They were using needles on him.
I pulled the nurse over and said, “Are you giving him a shot or something?”
“Yes.” She replied.
“Then it would probably better if I stayed in here.”
“But Mr.-”
I cut her off, “It can’t be against hospital rules or whatever. It would be easier for you if you just let me stay.”
Impatiently, she replied, “Fine.” And walked over to Gerard’s bed. “Mr. Way? Mr. Iero’s going to star in here with you.”
He visibly relaxed when the nurse told him that. He went from every muscle tense to slumping against the four pillows that were piled behind him. I laughed to myself; he had always used multiple pillows at home. Some things don’t change.
I walked back over to him and entwined our fingers together. I then whispered to him, “Everything’s fine.” When they came toward him with the syringe that was filled with a light blue liquid. As soon as Gerard saw the syringe his eyes widened in horror, his hand squeezed mine, and every muscle in his body tensed.
“Gerard, relax or it will hurt even more.” I whispered in his ear when I saw his eyes close tightly. He then relaxed a little, but not much.
The nurse was on the other side of Gerard and I saw her open her mouth to tell Gerard she was going to insert the needle, but I caught her attention and started shaking my head violently. I knew he would be better if he didn’t know it was coming.
Minutes later the nurse was gone and Gerard was back to his normal calm self.
“So why did they have to give you a shot?” I asked him.
“Not sure, I prefer not to know.”
Once again silence consumed the room and I noticed Gerard yawning so I told him to go to sleep.
“Go home and get some sleep. My mom should be here soon. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
As I left the room I heard him snoring and I thought to myself that I will worry, since I know he will never sleep next to me again.
…
A few hours later I was woken up by the sound of Gerard’s wonderful voice. In other words my phone was ringing. I didn’t bother to check who it was; I just opened it and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Frank get to the hospital.” I immediately knew the voice, it was Mikey, Gerard’s little brother, and I could hear the tears in his voice.
“Oh God, not now.” I shut the phone and quickly threw on some clean clothes and drove to the hospital.
When I got to the hospital and walked into Gerard’s room I saw his mom sitting in a chair crying with his dad behind her, our friends Ray and Bob standing with Mikey, and a pale, sick looking Gerard.
I rushed right over to his bedside, “Oh Gerard how could you have gotten so bad?”
He coughed, “Frank remember, don’t cry too hard for me, and I love you. I always have and I always will.” He smiled at me and started to sing again, “Turn away if you couldn’t get me a drink of water cause my lips are chapped and faded call my aunt Marie, help her gather all my things and bury me in all my favorite colors, my sisters and my brothers still, I will not kiss you cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.” He smiled at me again and I put my hand in his. “Frankie, remember that hardest part of this is leaving you.” He then used his other and touched his pointer finger to my chest, right over my heart.
I leaned down and kissed the love of my life, then rested my forehead against his, “Gerard, I will never forget you, I will live on until we meet again. And until then I will always love you.”
“I love you Frank.” He whispered.
“I love you to Gee.” He then took his last breath and I stood back up.
Hand still in his I whispered, “I will never forget you baby.”
I took my hand out of his and faced his family and our friends.
“Frank, we never loved the fact that our son was gay for you, but we know he loved you and you loved him, so thank you.”
I nodded my answer to Gerard’s dad and turned toward Mikey. With tears staining both of our cheeks I wrapped him in a hug.
In the days that followed I cried a lot, and Gerard’s funeral was held. All I could think was that he would have loved it. After his beautiful coffin that held his beautiful body was placed in the ground, I worked hard to not cry too much for him, just as he wanted.
Every day, not matter what the weather was like I went to Gerard’s grave and sat for hours. I would talk to the open air about everything, just like when Gerard had been around. Every time I went I felt less lonely when I left. I would see Gerard again one day and until that day came I would come to his grave and talk to him, because I know he might not be with me but somewhere he’s looking out for me, and he’s listening to my every word.