Seize the Day (27 page)

I nodded.

“How you doing? How you feeling? I have to be honest: I went to sleep thinking about you.”

I was hardly arrogant enough to believe she meant that in a romantic way.

“Why do you think that was?”

“Calvin, I was taken by you, your story, who you are. It's just so much stuff. First of all, I would be a wreck if I were in your situation. But you were just hanging out and having a good ole time. You seem so calm and clear in your thoughts. It's just really brave the way you handle yourself.”

“Thank you. But, trust me, I wasn't always this way. In some ways, I don't believe it. I've seen all the X-rays and talked to some of the leading oncologists. So, I
know
it's real. It just doesn't
feel
real. I want to live, and for the first time in my life I've been forced to look at how I was living. I wasn't doing that much. In the last month, I have had more adventure than a soldier.”

“You said your daughter's coming here today, right?”

“Yes. I'm looking forward to some quiet time alone with her. We hadn't done anything together, just me and her, out of town, in a while. At home, we see each other all the time. But we have not traveled anywhere. So with these treatments I will get, hopefully, we can spend a little time doing some things together—daddy/daughter—before she goes back.”

“That should be fun. I can send you some things I think she'd might like.”

“Cool.” I did not give an extensive answer because I was too busy spreading apricot jam over homemade biscuits they brought to the table. Immediately, I liked Murphy's.

The service was attentive with a smile and efficient. The biscuits and muffins were delicious. They made me want to eat, which was a feat. She ordered the shrimp and grits and I ordered the strawberry pancakes, eggs and bacon. Murphy's felt like home.

The food reminded me of my grandmother, who made biscuits from scratch and pancakes that were melt-in-your-mouth good. She could cook anything. It also felt like home because the people were open and friendly. Everyone seemed was in a good mood, and that was pleasant to experience.

“There are a lot of great places to eat in Atlanta; this is one of my favorites,” Venus said. “Brunch, lunch, dinner, you can't go wrong. That's why I chose it. I had to take you somewhere I knew you'd enjoy.”

I was enjoying my time with Venus more than I had anticipated. Whenever I could engage people or a situation and forgot I was dying, it was a special time. I had it with Kathy longer than any other time. Walking Moses and caring for him took me away from my plight. It was during quiet time that I was overwhelmed with what was ahead.

“Do you mind talking about what's going on with you or does it bother you?”

“I have not told many people. I'm not trying to hide it. But I don't need to put it on blast, either. With you, it just came naturally with the conversation. I felt something about you that made me comfortable. It's hard to put a finger on.”

“Well, I didn't tell anyone. I sensed that you hadn't told a lot of people. I don't think anyone would. But I—I don't know—I felt honored that you were open with me.”

“What if I wasn't sick? Would we still be here.”

“Yes, because we aren't here because you're sick. I have gone through some things in my life that make me cherish life and good people. One of my close girlfriends, Ladina, died from breast cancer last year. It was so sad because she didn't tell me she was sick. I had no idea. We were having a good time at homecoming that October. By January, she was gone. I didn't learn anything until she was in the hospital. By then, it was just a matter of days.

“So, for you to tell me, even though you don't know me, it meant a lot. I can't imagine what it was like for Ladina, so I can't blame her for not saying anything. Maybe I would do the same thing. I just wanted to know so I could spend that time with her and tell her how much she meant to me.”

“That's definitely the dilemma that comes with this. The people closest to me—and you and a homeless guy I met late last night—know. But not everyone.”

“A homeless guy?”

“Yeah, I was walking my dog around three in the morning and we ran into him and we just started talking. It was interesting because, basically, he was a guy—the same age as me—who had given up on life. I told him that I was losing mine and I have learned more clearly than ever that life is a gift.”

“I looked at a woman who was like my second mother,” Venus said. “She's older and losing the battle with Alzheimer's. Her mind is going and her overall health is deteriorating really fast, too. It hurts my heart to see her like this. And it scares me. It makes me think about my future.”

“Be glad you have a future. A lot of it you can control by eating right and exercising. And getting rest. None of that matters when cancer comes calling, though.”

Venus nodded her head slowly and sadly. “Venus, it's OK. I'm here now and I'm having a great time. And I appreciate you picking me up and bringing me here. I think I'll bring my daughter here before she goes back.”

“What was your life like before all this?”

“You know what? It wasn't this exciting. It was good, but kinda mundane. I loved teaching and my students and that was my focus. I played golf a lot and I liked books, but I didn't travel much or have much adventure. I guess it was a safe existence.

“But lately, every day has been an adventure. It's like as soon as I decided to live my life, my world began to open up. If I had been living this way all along, no telling where I would be now or what I would have done.

“That's one of the things I will tell my daughter while she's here. We have one life. How we live it is up to us. But we have to live it in order to get something out of it.”

Venus looked at me with sorrow in her eyes. “Don't feel sorry for me, Venus.” She was the only person I knew named after the goddess of love, and I liked saying it. “I've accepted there's nothing I can do about what will happen to me in the coming months. I don't like it, but there's literally nothing I can do about it. So, I'm living and having the time of my life. But you'd better believe I struggle with it. Always will.

“I asked my pastor why this has happened to me and he said, ‘Why
not
you?' And that made sense. It's about what I do while I'm here and not question God's work.”

“But do you really believe it's God's will that you, you know…”

“If I believe that He watches over my daughter and that He wakes me up each morning and that He is the Almighty, then I have to believe that this is His doing. You know what I mean? Either you're in or you're out. That doesn't mean I didn't question Him or still say ‘Why me?' But, in the end, He is above all and I embrace seeing Him when I'm it's my time.”

“You're so brave. I couldn't…”

“You're stronger than you think. We do what we have to do. Also, I don't want you to get the wrong impression. Almost every night I cry myself to sleep. I'm scared to death when it's quiet and I'm left with my thoughts. I've made peace with it…most of the time. But I have broken things and cursed and cried. Inside, I'm petrified.”

“Oh, Calvin. I'm so sorry. You seem like such a good man.”

“I appreciate that. But you should take away that you have been a good part of my life, my new life that started several weeks ago. I'm thankful for that. I have a new friend.”

Teary-eyed, she excused herself and went to the bathroom. I sat back in my chair and looked out onto Virginia Avenue. People held hands as they walked by. Some shopped. Others chatted on their cell phones. I was jealous. It seemed they did not have a care in the world.

V
enus took the scenic route back to the hotel. She went back up Virginia Avenue, to Monroe Drive and up Tenth Street, alongside Piedmont Park. I held onto her firmly and let the breeze cover my body.

I noticed the birds flying and the clouds above. I noticed the trees swaying and kites flying and people tossing Frisbees and the dogs running free in the park. My senses were aroused. Moses would enjoy all the open space, I thought.

At the light at Peachtree Street, Venus turned to me. “You OK back there?”

“Holding onto your waist? Yeah, I'm good.”

She laughed. “OK. We're going to go up Peachtree so you can see more sights.”

I nodded. I sensed Venus was not taking pity on me, but that she was a kind woman who liked me and wanted me to see her city. And the ride back was fun. The traffic reminded me of D.C., but the people seemed less stressed and more carefree. The city was full of energy. I loved it.

“I could live here,” I said when we got back to the hotel. We both noticed the irony in that statement.

“Venus, that was a good time. Really appreciate everything.”

“You're welcome. Let me know how the treatments go. If you're up to it, let's meet for lunch or dinner.”

“No doubt. That sounds great.”

We hugged and she kissed me on my face. “I'm praying for you.”

“Thank you, Venus.”

I watched her mount her Harley and ride away before I opened the door to see Moses. He was bouncy and happy, tail wagging. I didn't even close the door. I grabbed his leash and took him out.

I noticed that I was getting more fatigued quicker than before, so our walk only lasted a few minutes. Once he was done, I headed back to the room.

“Moses, man, I'm tired. All I did was sit up close and hold onto a beautiful woman, but I'm drained,” I said. “I guess you know what's going on with me, huh?”

That dog made a sound I hadn't heard before, as if he were sounding out sadness. “It's OK, man. It's OK,” I said as I picked him up and played with him on my lap. “I'm going out kicking and screaming with you by my side. OK?”

Moses wagged his tail and I, again, was convinced he understood something. “Let's relax before we go to the airport,” I said. I thought:
Maybe this fucking cancer has spread to my brain. Why do I continually talk to a dog? And ask him questions?

The nap came and went so fast and I awoke feeling sluggish. I was ready for Dr. Ali's treatment. I didn't help myself by eating pancakes, but they looked too good and I didn't want to pass them up while I still had my taste buds.

Her pre-session e-mail indicated I should not eat after four in the afternoon and that I should have plenty of alkalized water, essaic tea and seasilver, a nutritional supplement. Together, along with the coffee enemas, I would be giving my body the best chance to stay healthy the longest. And if I was not too far gone, it would eliminate or cut back big time on the pain and give me energy.

I knew all this would be a temporary fix. The cancer had spread and was not going to stop. There would be a time when I would become emaciated and fade away looking much older than I was.

That was the talk I had to have with Maya. I wanted to warn her, prepare her, so that she would not be overwhelmed with what she saw. I was not sure how to have that conversation; wasn't sure how I would survive that conversation because I knew what my daughter's reaction would be, which would cause me to react in kind. Tears.

When it was time to head to the airport, I rubbed on Moses and carried him to the car. For some reason, I babied the puppy, which was a first. But I felt so connected to this little dog. I believed he would drive me home if he thought I needed him to. He'd figure it out.

I wondered if I would have cared for him had my situation not been the same. I wondered a lot about a lot of things because, in a lot of ways, I felt like a different person, someone I always wanted to be but didn't have the courage or the push to become.

I liked this me better than the pre-cancer me. I was bolder and more connected to the world and the people around me. I cared about more than just my family and my friends. That was the abject lesson in all this: Embrace life.

Before leaving for Atlanta, I told my friends just that, even the ones who did not know I was dying. Even Maya's mother, Skylar, who I had no interest in seeing or talking to ever again. She likely felt guilty for all the drama she took me through and called to say she was sorry for my diagnosis. My first instinct was to tell her,
I wish you were the one dying,
but I held back and told her: “Appreciate that. Just take from me that you have one life to live and you should live it to the max. I know you disregard anything that comes from me, but I had to say that.”

Skylar did unforgivable things to me, things that still make me angry, eighteen years later, which was the last time I actually laid eyes on her. I avoided her at Maya's high-school and college graduations for fear my rage would make me go off. I literally was in the same space with her but would not look at her. I knew it was hard for Maya, but I had no other emotion around her mother than rage.