A Quality for My Sleeve | Teen Ink

A Quality for My Sleeve

January 29, 2017
By SarahChristineM BRONZE, Park Rapids, Minnesota
SarahChristineM BRONZE, Park Rapids, Minnesota
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

He was young and I didn’t know him very well. The summer of 2014 was full of mixed emotions. My mother had me hang out with my cousin Adrian, who I rarely saw at family functions. I curiously wondered as to why my mother sent me, out of the blue, to the Family Cabin for a few weeks.

 

Caring. Noun, the work or practice of looking after those unable to care for themselves, especially sick and elderly people (Webster's Dictionary for Students). It’s putting others before one’s self; very important, but sometimes hard to do.

 

The second my eyes fell on his nearly bald head and his pale thin build, I knew. Adrian was diagnosed with Wilms’ Tumor, which is a cancerous tumor found in the kidneys of young children. It uncontrollably spread to the rest of his organs like a ripple in the water. He didn’t have long, just a few short months to live. Adrian’s mother called out to the rest of the extended family and asked for everyone to join them at the cabin, so her son was around family and friends for his last moments in life.


His diagnosis was very traumatic, leaving me with a heavy heart. Cancer isn’t a part-time deal. It’s full-time and completely devastating. During that summer I had to smile continuously and always be joyful.


My mother told me, as a young girl, I was like a mother hen towards others. I remember taking care of my much older brothers, giving them detailed instructions on how to perform simple tasks. I would treat my best friend of the same age like a three year old. At times, I was even a little bit selfish. Caring for others became bossing them around to get my way.


There is one memory that I have of the two of us that is seared into my mind. We were sitting outside of the gas station at Outing, which is one of the smallest towns I’ve ever seen. Adrian and I were bonding over some superman ice cream. The whole experience felt strange, meeting a cousin I have never met in my life and then suddenly seeing him every day, knowing full well that he’s going to die. He openly shared with me everything from his first kiss to his current crush on the much older next door neighbor. He acted as though everything was normal. Like he was normal.


I didn’t want to cry. I couldn’t; not for him. One of the most difficult aspects was hopelessly watching his parents deal with the imminent loss of their only son. They were already crying and fighting, wasting away their precious time with him. Ripping my heart off my sleeve, I buried any weakness or heavy heartedness where no one could find it. My own sorrow benefited no one, he was the one with cancer. Adrian was only 12 years old and didn’t experience a very prosperous life.

 

“A smile is the light in your window that tells others that there is a caring, sharing person inside.”
    -Denis Waitley

I cared for him as though he was my little brother. Caring is to always put him first, making sure he is comfortable. Adrian would get the last slice of pie, the spot on the couch with a perfect view of the T.V., and I would be the one to row us to and from the lucky fishing spot.


The sun was shining its harsh, darting rays at us. Adrian’s weakness was becoming more apparent as the days went on. I carried our gear as we slowly made our way down the hill to the lake, and I set up our poles. While I was sitting there I realized how close I have gotten to him over the summer. The sun felt warm and alive, just like him. He was still alive. He made me want to care for him and be his guardian who was always there. I will miss him so much.


August 21, 2015. Everyone is mourning as if there’s a dark cloud hanging over the entire room. The funeral was long, and every word weighed me down more and more. It was a time for me to finally cry. I didn’t hold anything back, I let it all go. Who am I going to do things with now? Adrian was a part of me, he was the little sibling I never had: a bird under my wing.

“Caring-about people, about things, about life- is an act of maturity.”
     -Tracy Memillian

I now care for others the way I care for Adrian.

 

Works Cited
Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. Springfield, MA: Merriam-Webster, 2011. Print.
Webster's Dictionary for Students. New York: Sandy Creek, 2009. Print.



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