So, I go back. I didn’t have time to get Samantha a coffee last time, and Im heading to Calgary anyway.
When I walk through the doors the resident who suggested I shave is there at the front entrance.
“She’s upstairs.” she greets me cheerfully. An out-of commission elevator and a few wrong turns later, I walk through the doors.
“Is Sam here?” I ask.
“I’m here.” A voice comes from the common area.
“Here’s your coffee.”
She starts to talk. I play with my phone. I struggle to deal with my emotions when I see Sam. She asks me about my Christmas, I give distracted answers.
One of the residents in the common area sends a unsubtle message by turning the volume of the TV up. We get the hint.
“Want to come see my couch?” She asks.
“Sure!”
We walk. She struggles to walk because of a medical condition, but with a walker and a few breaks we make it to her room. I sit on a chair and start looking at stock prices on my phone, of stock I don’t and will never own. She is talking,
Suddenly the tone changes and it cuts through my distraction like a razor sharp knife…..
“You know I walk in this room and I look at that sign, it says, ‘LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL’. Bullshit. Life isn’t beautiful. My life is hard. I want what you all have: Partners, kids, ability to get out. I want to work and have a life. Instead I’m here. I see the same people everyday. I’m stuck. I can barely move. I’m in pain. I tell people what they want to hear, I say I’m fine. But I don’t know if I am fine.
I snap out of my cloud. I watch her keenly, hang onto every word. In a world of competing victims it’s extremely refreshing to hear from someone who legitimately needs to be heard. She carries on….
“It’s good that you just sit there and say nothing. Sit there. You listen, I’ll talk. I need to say how I feel. But life isn’t all bad. That day I had my bandages changed was the worst day of my life, but when Jay held my hand and told me I was tough, I felt his love. It has made me happy. I think about it a lot. He’s going to get a room so you all can celebrate Christmas with me.”
I follow instructions. I sit there. My phone is off, and I’m 100 percent present and listening. She tells me all about her sadness, fears, and hopes. I stay way longer than I was planning. When it’s time, I get up to go. She walks me out. Its painful for her to do so, but she insists. On our way out my favourite resident, the one whose son never comes to see her, asks me to put a fallen angel on top of a Christmas tree. She can’t reach the top. Fallen angels are my favourite angels, and I oblige. We say our goodbyes.
Later that night Sam calls. I actually answer. She thanks me for listening, for coming again. She starts to apologize for complaining. I stop her and truthfully say how much I enjoyed listening to her be completely raw and honest.
“Ok then,” she says laughingly, “In that case, Good fucking night!”
We both start to laugh. Through my laughter I reply, “Good fucking night to you too, Sam.”
The call ends in laughter. I feel connected to my sister. Life IS beautiful.
If you read this far, thank you.
Tris.
Tristram's Blog 