my childhood, yet there are some moments that stay somewhat clear. I was only five or six, so the conversation I had that day stuck with me for a while. I was in a car with both of my parents, but not my sister. I think my Grandma was there, too. It was raining heavily and it was getting dark although it wasn’t too late. -- How come we never see Grandpa anymore? -- I drawled. I was bored, my hands fidgeting and my head stuck to the glass of the car window. I could instantly sense the tension between the adults in the car. Mum clutched her bag and Grandma looked away. My father took a deep breath and said: -- Do you remember that he had to go to the hospital a few months ago? -- we stopped at a traffic light and he turned his head to look me in the eyes. I frowned. A five-year-old’s life is way too exciting to remember such boring events, so it took me a couple of seconds, but then I nodded and looked at him back. -- Yeah... It had to do with his head, didn’t it? Did he hurt it or something? -- I must’ve looked quite confused. -- Not really. -- he sighed. -- You see, Grandpa has been really sick for a while now. -- he chose his words carefully, taking his time to respond all the while focusing on the road. -- But doesn’t he have the meds to stay healthy? -- I never missed a chance to interrupt. -- He has lot’s of them, shouldn’t they help? There are blue ones, and pink, and even a couple of orange ones! -- I felt really proud for knowing all the important stuff the grownups have forgotten about. -- Please keep your voice down, -- Mum said quietly. -- As I was saying, Father.. errr.. Grandpa has gotten worse over the last few months, so they had to put him in a hospital. There professional nurses and doctors could keep a close eye on him, in case... In case something bad happens. -- Well, fine, if he has to stay there, -- I groaned and rolled my eyes, -- Why don’t we just go and visit? I want one of those silver-blue caramels he always gives me. -- You see, with all the pills he was taking, -- Mum interrupted, her voice shaking and her eyes suddenly flooded with tears, -- I’m afraid there’s been a terrible mistake... Your grandfather passed away. The doctors, they put too much medicine into his body and now he’s dead. They put the wrong one, not the one that could cure him... -- she was just rambling now, tears rolling down her eyes. I understand now that the prospect of explaining the concepts of both death and cancer was simply too much for a first-time parent. She looked at me, terrified of my reaction, but I just blinked. -- What does it mean... -- I asked quietly, taking my time with the words, deciding whether or not I wanted an answer, -- to be dead?
26 Nov 2018
The Day I Found out by Vera Baklanova
I don’t remember much about
my childhood, yet there are some moments that stay somewhat clear. I was only five or six, so the conversation I had that day stuck with me for a while. I was in a car with both of my parents, but not my sister. I think my Grandma was there, too. It was raining heavily and it was getting dark although it wasn’t too late. -- How come we never see Grandpa anymore? -- I drawled. I was bored, my hands fidgeting and my head stuck to the glass of the car window. I could instantly sense the tension between the adults in the car. Mum clutched her bag and Grandma looked away. My father took a deep breath and said: -- Do you remember that he had to go to the hospital a few months ago? -- we stopped at a traffic light and he turned his head to look me in the eyes. I frowned. A five-year-old’s life is way too exciting to remember such boring events, so it took me a couple of seconds, but then I nodded and looked at him back. -- Yeah... It had to do with his head, didn’t it? Did he hurt it or something? -- I must’ve looked quite confused. -- Not really. -- he sighed. -- You see, Grandpa has been really sick for a while now. -- he chose his words carefully, taking his time to respond all the while focusing on the road. -- But doesn’t he have the meds to stay healthy? -- I never missed a chance to interrupt. -- He has lot’s of them, shouldn’t they help? There are blue ones, and pink, and even a couple of orange ones! -- I felt really proud for knowing all the important stuff the grownups have forgotten about. -- Please keep your voice down, -- Mum said quietly. -- As I was saying, Father.. errr.. Grandpa has gotten worse over the last few months, so they had to put him in a hospital. There professional nurses and doctors could keep a close eye on him, in case... In case something bad happens. -- Well, fine, if he has to stay there, -- I groaned and rolled my eyes, -- Why don’t we just go and visit? I want one of those silver-blue caramels he always gives me. -- You see, with all the pills he was taking, -- Mum interrupted, her voice shaking and her eyes suddenly flooded with tears, -- I’m afraid there’s been a terrible mistake... Your grandfather passed away. The doctors, they put too much medicine into his body and now he’s dead. They put the wrong one, not the one that could cure him... -- she was just rambling now, tears rolling down her eyes. I understand now that the prospect of explaining the concepts of both death and cancer was simply too much for a first-time parent. She looked at me, terrified of my reaction, but I just blinked. -- What does it mean... -- I asked quietly, taking my time with the words, deciding whether or not I wanted an answer, -- to be dead?
my childhood, yet there are some moments that stay somewhat clear. I was only five or six, so the conversation I had that day stuck with me for a while. I was in a car with both of my parents, but not my sister. I think my Grandma was there, too. It was raining heavily and it was getting dark although it wasn’t too late. -- How come we never see Grandpa anymore? -- I drawled. I was bored, my hands fidgeting and my head stuck to the glass of the car window. I could instantly sense the tension between the adults in the car. Mum clutched her bag and Grandma looked away. My father took a deep breath and said: -- Do you remember that he had to go to the hospital a few months ago? -- we stopped at a traffic light and he turned his head to look me in the eyes. I frowned. A five-year-old’s life is way too exciting to remember such boring events, so it took me a couple of seconds, but then I nodded and looked at him back. -- Yeah... It had to do with his head, didn’t it? Did he hurt it or something? -- I must’ve looked quite confused. -- Not really. -- he sighed. -- You see, Grandpa has been really sick for a while now. -- he chose his words carefully, taking his time to respond all the while focusing on the road. -- But doesn’t he have the meds to stay healthy? -- I never missed a chance to interrupt. -- He has lot’s of them, shouldn’t they help? There are blue ones, and pink, and even a couple of orange ones! -- I felt really proud for knowing all the important stuff the grownups have forgotten about. -- Please keep your voice down, -- Mum said quietly. -- As I was saying, Father.. errr.. Grandpa has gotten worse over the last few months, so they had to put him in a hospital. There professional nurses and doctors could keep a close eye on him, in case... In case something bad happens. -- Well, fine, if he has to stay there, -- I groaned and rolled my eyes, -- Why don’t we just go and visit? I want one of those silver-blue caramels he always gives me. -- You see, with all the pills he was taking, -- Mum interrupted, her voice shaking and her eyes suddenly flooded with tears, -- I’m afraid there’s been a terrible mistake... Your grandfather passed away. The doctors, they put too much medicine into his body and now he’s dead. They put the wrong one, not the one that could cure him... -- she was just rambling now, tears rolling down her eyes. I understand now that the prospect of explaining the concepts of both death and cancer was simply too much for a first-time parent. She looked at me, terrified of my reaction, but I just blinked. -- What does it mean... -- I asked quietly, taking my time with the words, deciding whether or not I wanted an answer, -- to be dead?
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