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liked it a lot, which made me feel really good. Just like the
first time I saw Patrick. The best thing about Patrick is that
even when you're in a hospital, he doesn't change. He just
cracks jokes to make you feel better instead of asking you
questions about feeling worse. He even brought me a letter
from Sam, and Sam said that she was coming back at the end of
August, and if I got better by then, she and Patrick would drive
me through the tunnel. And this time, I could stand in the back
of the pickup truck if I wanted to. Things like that helped
more than anything.
The days when I received mail were good, too. My
grandfather sent me a really nice letter. So did my great aunt.
So did my grandma and Great Uncle Phil. My Aunt Rebecca
even sent me flowers with a card that was signed by all my
Ohio cousins. It was nice to know that they were thinking
about me just like it was nice the time Patrick brought Mary
Elizabeth and Alice and Bob and everyone for a visit.
Including Peter and Craig. I guess they're friends again. And
I was glad they were. Just like I was glad that Mary Elizabeth
did most of the talking. Because it made things feel more
normal. Mary Elizabeth even stayed a little later than the
others. I was so happy to have a chance to talk with her alone
before she left for Berkeley. Just like I was happy for Bill and
his girlfr when they came to see me two weeks ago. They're
getting married this November, and they want me to go to their
wedding. It's nice to have things to look forward to.
The time it started to feel like everything was going to be
all right was the time when my sister and brother stayed after
my parents had left. This was some time in July. They asked
me a lot of questions about Aunt Helen because I guess nothing
had ever happened to them. And my brother looked really sad.
And my sister looked really mad. It was at that time that
things started to get clearer because there was nobody to hate
anymore after that.
What I mean is that I looked at my brother and sister, and I
thought that maybe someday they would be an aunt and uncle,
just like I would be an uncle. Just like my mother and Aunt
Helen were sisters.
And we could all sit around and wonder and feel bad about
each other and blame a lot of people for what they did or didn't
do or what they didn't know. I don't know. I guess there
could always be someone to blame. Maybe if my grandfather
didn't hit her, my mom wouldn't be so quiet. And maybe she
wouldn't have married my dad because he doesn't hit. And
maybe I would never have been born. But I'm very glad to
have been born, so I don't know what to say about it all
especially since my mom seems happy with her life, and I don't
know what else there is to want.
It's like if I blamed my aunt Helen, I would have to blame
her dad for hitting her and the friend of the family that fooled
around with her when she was little. And the person that
fooled around with him. And God for not stopping all this and
things that are much worse. And I did do that for a while, but
then I just couldn't anymore. Because it wasn't going
anywhere. Because it wasn't the point.
I'm not the way I am because of what I dreamt and
remembered about my aunt Helen. That's what I figured out
when things got quiet. And I think that's very important to
know. It made things feel clear and together. Don't get me
wrong. I know what happened was important. And I needed
to remember it. But it's like when my doctor told me the story
of these two brothers whose dad was a bad alcoholic. One
brother grew up to be a successful carpenter who never drank.
The other brother ended up being a drinker as bad as his dad
was. When they asked the first brother why he didn't drink, he
said that after he saw what it did to his father, he could never
bring himself to even try it. When they asked the other
brother, he said that he guessed he learned how to drink on his
father's knee. So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of
reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But
even if we don't have the power to choose where we come
from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still
do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.
I think that if I ever have kids, and they are upset, I won't
tell them that people are starving in China or anything like that
because it wouldn't change the fact that they were upset. And
even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really
change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.
Just like what my sister said when I had been in the hospital for
a while. She said that she was really worried about going to
college, and considering what I was going through, she felt
really dumb about it. But I don't know why she would feel
dumb. I'd be worried, too. And really, I don't think I have it
any better or worse than she does. I don't know. It's just
different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but
sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there.
Like Sam said. Because it's okay to feel things. And be who
you are about them.
When I got released yesterday, my mom drove me home.
It was in the afternoon, and she asked me if I was hungry. And
I said yes. Then, she asked me what I wanted, and I told her I
wanted to go to McDonald's like we did when I was little and
got sick and stayed home from school. So, we went there.
And it was so nice to be with my mom and eat french fries.
And later that night to be with my family at dinnertime and
have things just be like they always were. That was the
amazing part. Things just keep going. We didn't talk about
anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And
that was enough.
So, today my father went to work. And my mother took
my sister and me out to take care of last-minute things for my
sister since she's leaving for college in a few days. When we
got back, I called Patrick's house because he said that Sam
should be home by then. Sam answered the phone. And it
was so nice to hear her voice.
Later, they came by in Sam's pickup truck. And we went
to the Big Boy just like we always did. Sam told us about her
life at school, which sounded very exciting. And I told her
about my life in the hospital, which didn't. And Patrick made
jokes to keep everyone honest. After we left, we got in Sam's
pickup truck, and just like Sam promised, we drove to the
tunnel.
About half a mile from the tunnel, Sam stopped the car,
and I climbed in back. Patrick played the radio really loud so I
could hear it, and as we were approaching the tunnel, I listened
to the music and thought about all the things that people have
said to me over the past year. I thought about Bill telling me I
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