Endeavor of the March Flower

Endeavor of the March Flower

Coming from the big city, I have always been accustomed to a myriad of people and just the average city kid's life. A life filled with nights that seemed to never shut off, stores that seemed to never close, and people always filling the streets as if they never slept. That all changed when I moved to what I now call home in a small rural town in the state of Kentucky. I never really liked the thought of living in such a small environment but I did what I had to do in order to become familiarized to this life that was so lackluster in contrast to my former lifestyle. Finally, one blissful day in junior high school, an enrichment trip would give me the opportunity to revisit that life which I had left behind me years ago. The enrichment expedition was to "The Big Apple", New York City. I was so ecstatic when I heard of this trip that I was the first to sign upÐ'...six months in advance. I walked to school and back home every day, being that my house was only approximately a mile away from my school. Needless to say, I ran home that day. I almost broke the tan French door at the front of my house off of its hinges as I burst into my living room full of excitement ready to inform my parents of the great news. As I entered the living room donning a smile from ear to ear, I saw my mother with tears in her eyes just waiting to fall and my father with his head in his hands sobbing uncontrollably. I asked my mother with a look of confounded concern what had happened. She grasped my father's hand, looked at me with her glazed, blood shot eyes and said to me; "Your uncle was diagnosed with cancer today." There was a long pause followed by her next statement, "They are giving him a year to live."

At the drop of a hat, my excitement turned into awestruck misery. I had no response to my mother, nor did I move to console my father, who could not fathom the thought of losing his big brother. I walked straight into my room with no detour. As I walked into my room, the walls, full of posters of my favorite athletes and recording artists, became to close in on me. I felt as if I was about to lose consciousness. My legs became weak and I seemed to just fall on my twin bed. Staring at the ceiling, I begin to remember old memories of my uncle and me. My uncle was the jester of the family. Whenever times were hard, a boring moment, or any other situation where it seemed there was nothing to smile about, he could make the most dampened spirit smile. Every holiday, in which the family would meet, we would always meet at his house or he would organize the rendezvous of our family. I began to ponder how often our family would meet with his absence and who would be there to turn the frowns to smiles when no one else could do so. These melancholy thoughts lead me to hours of unsound nerves and tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn't know how I was going to make it at school the next day.

For the next two weeks, I did not even speak a word to any of my friends at school; I was inactive and inattentive during class. I could not even make out any of the words all my teachers were saying; it was as if they spoke a different language. After about a month, the opportunity came to see my uncle. I calmly declined. As days went by I tried to convince myself that the diagnosis of cancer in my uncle's body did not happen and that next Christmas, he'll be there and for the Christmas after that as well. After about three months, I finally worked up the courage to accept my parents' plea and visit my sickened uncle. My stomach was full of butterflies the entire drive to his home. I had never seen a cancer victim before, but of heard of the havoc that it wreaks to one's body. I walked like a newborn giraffe to the front door, knees trembling and feet uncoordinated. As I entered the front door to his relaxing, cozy house ready for the worst, I took my first look at my uncle in months. Surprisingly, he looked fine! He looked just like he always had. He was sitting on the couch in a blue flannel shirt and denim jeans watching television like his normal self. At my sight he let out his old familiar laugh and asked where I had been lately. An enormous grin lit up my face and I answered jokingly and said, "I've been busy."

My uncle and I talked for hours just about everything, except for his cancer that is. He reminded that any time I needed to talk about anything I could come to him and he would be all ears to everything I had to say. He had always been the best at doing that for me. He also reminded me that the Buffalo Bills had a game coming up the following Sunday and asked if I would like wager breakfast at McDonald's on the game. Ever since I could remember, every last game the Bills had, my uncle would bet me on them and would always bet a McDonald's breakfast on the game. He won the bet every year, never forcing me to pay up, he just kept a running tab and used it to gloat and joke around with me. I made the bet with him, ended our conversation and left for home. I felt like everything was normal and was not going to change anytime soon. I was able to keep that feeling for a while. Although time heals all wounds, it opens more as well. I kept visiting my beloved uncle at least once a week for the next two months. At about the sixth week, I began to notice my uncle's body was beginning to shut down. He started to lose weight at an amazing rate. In just three weeks, he lost over ninety pounds and began looking frail and weak. He started to lose coordination and memory. At times, he did not even recognize who was speaking to him. Once he could not tell me my name is when I began to realize what was happening. I was going to lose my uncle; and it was going to be soon.

My New York City trip was right before me. It was only a few days before my departure to the city of over eight million people. For years, every morning my uncle woke up with a cup of coffee and watched the "Today Show" to start off his morning. Ironically, being in the audience of the "Today Show" was included in our trip to New York City. The day before my departure I whispered in the weakened ear of my uncle that he needed to be "awake" to see me wave to him on the "Today Show." He inaudibly mumbled something followed by a groan and a confound look on his face. I never understood what he said or what that look meant; however, I told my uncle that I loved him and I would be back to see him in a week. And I would. The day I got back from New York City I planned to rush home just to see my uncle battling cancer when I had been so apprehensive about even seeing him at first.

My plane