Something Had to Give (15 page)

The remainder of my junior year was tough. I had developed a routine of seeing Derrick after my classes or going to see him at home. They were habits that were so hard to break. The whole moving on thing seemed impossible. I continued to work and when time allowed, Kristin and me would hang out. There were so many days I just wanted to lock myself in room and cry but I didn’t partly because of the conversation I had with Mommy and mostly because I knew Derrick wouldn’t have wanted me to. The one thing I was adamant about was not running track. There were just too many memories attached from both Jackie and Derrick. I didn’t want anyone to try and change my mind even though I knew I was disappointing a lot of people including myself. I was glad that no one had much to say over my decision despite how they felt about it.

The end of the school year was a relief and burden at the same time. Daily, I feared that someone would approach me at school to ask about Derrick’s death. People approached me all the time to tell me how sorry they were. I learned to smile and say thank you, but the one thing I didn’t want was for people to barrage me with questions. I literally counted down the days to summer break, but when the final bell rang; it hit me that I was going to have a lot of free time. The last thing I wanted or needed was time to just sit and think about everything that was going on. Daddy had suggested that I join a grief support group for teens. I hated that idea even though I had pushed for Derrick to go. When Shanna invited me to spend a few weeks in Wilmington with her, I liked her suggestion a lot better.

Shanna had plans to visit with Craig’s family, which meant it would be at least a week before I would be able to go to Wilmington. With my parent’s insistence I agreed to go to the grief support group meeting. I worked the morning shift before the meeting and was so tired after a busy day that I contemplated not going. Aside from being tired, I didn’t know if I was ready to open up. It was hard for me to talk to my family about Derrick’s death; I didn’t know how I could open up to a group of strangers. I knew I would never hear the end of it if I didn’t go, so I hesitantly made my way to the location. There were six people in the group. It was all girls except for one guy, who looked just as thrilled as I was to be there. We started with introductions and I immediately felt out of place since everyone else was there for the death of a parent or sibling. Then there was me who was there for the death of my boyfriend. I felt so awkward that when it was time for me to share my story I froze.

“I-I’ll pass this time.” I managed to stammer out. People who had lost their blood relatives surrounded me. I didn’t feel like my story even compared.

“Are you sure? There is no judgment here, only support.” The group leader was sincere and I wished it were just us one-on-one.

“I’m sure.”

Initially, I was mad at myself for not just getting it out. I couldn’t figure out why I cared what those people thought of me. Instead of the group making me feel better, I felt worse. I heard some of the most depressing stories that I had ever heard in my life. They had all endured a front row seat to watching someone suffer and die terrible a death. It made me realize how much Derrick had spared me. I knew he was in pain and I knew the chemo had horrible side effects, but I didn’t see what they saw. As I sat there and listened to the stories I realized that I had done the right thing by keeping quiet. I finally understood why he would avoid me at times and wouldn’t let me come see him in the hospital. I appreciated Derrick even more for what he protected me from. I wished that I could have just one more minute with him; just enough time to tell him thank you.

That night I drove home trying to prepare myself to go home with the fakest smile I could muster. I had to do whatever it would take to convince my parents that the meeting had been all they expected. I even rehearsed what I would say to make them believe that it had done me some good. I walked in expecting for Daddy to be up waiting for me. I was so surprised to see Mommy sitting on the couch waiting that I forgot I was supposed to be pretending to be happy. For some reason, when I saw her, I didn’t feel the need to pretend to be OK.

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He was tired from work. I told him to go on to bed and that I would wait up for you.”

“Oh.” It was all I could think of to say as I plopped down on the couch beside her.

“Well, how did it go? I hear good things about John and the groups he runs there.”

I didn’t answer right away. I was going back and forth in my mind as to whether I wanted stick with my plan of saying it was helpful or tell the truth. I felt like they needed this group to be helpful more than me. It was obvious that they were having a hard time trying to figure out how to help me. The support group was their way of getting some of the pressure off of them. A part of me felt obligated to give them that relief. I didn’t think it was fair for me to be such a burden. The other part of me felt like I needed to get it out. The conversation I had with Mommy before Derrick’s funeral was still fresh on my mind, but I wondered if it had an expiration date. I took a long deep breath before answering.

“It wasn’t good.”

I started crying as soon as I started to tell Mommy about what had happened at the group. I knew Mommy didn’t know what to say, but just having her there to listen was the best therapy for me at that point. If she was burdened or exhausted from having to deal with my grief and me she never once made it known. I would never have thought that Mommy would be the one to have my back during such a difficult time. It had never been her role, but somehow she was pulling it off like a champ. I only hoped that at some point I could repay her or at least tell her how amazing she was.

From the minute I got to Wilmington to stay with Shanna, I felt relieved. I wasn’t sure if it was the change of scenery or being with Shanna, but it was exactly what I needed. I needed a break from the routine of work and home. After my first week, I knew I would need more than two weeks. When Shanna offered, I eagerly agreed to stay the whole summer. I didn’t really see a need to be in Charlotte. There was no Derrick and no family trip to Detroit. Shanna got me a job at a restaurant across from campus and I spent my off days at the beach or with Shanna when she wasn’t with Craig or working. I kept myself busy rarely allowing myself to think about the fact that I would eventually have to go back home. I took the time to enjoy the temporary feeling of being at peace.

∞∞∞

I had anticipated my senior year of high school for years. It symbolized such a sense of accomplishment and a transition into adulthood. It was also supposed to be an exciting time to prepare for college. I was no longer excited about my senior year. The only thing I looked forward to was the last day of school. I felt so nauseous driving to school the first day that I thought I was going to have to pull over twice. I tried not to look at that spot in front of the office that I would always meet Derrick. I couldn’t help it. I wanted so much for him to be there. The fact that he wasn’t and would not be there for the following 179 days brought tears to my eyes. By the time I got to my homeroom building I had to stop by the bathroom to pull it together. I got to homeroom late and I guess my puffy eyes were excuse enough for the teacher to let me in without asking too many questions. As I sat in my desk, I noticed Tre staring at me. We made eye contact and I hoped the look I gave him showed that I was in no mood for his foolishness. He simply nodded his head and turned in another direction. With a sigh of relief, I sat at my desk with my eyes closed trying to gain my composure. Something had to give. It was only the first day of school. Breathe Cheryl. Breathe.

I don’t know if things got better or if I got stronger, but by the end of the first semester, school was no longer a burden I dreaded daily. It was time to apply to colleges and everyone found it to be an exciting time except me. Before Derrick passed I had almost sold him on the idea of applying to UNCW with me. Filling out the application alone didn’t seem quite as appealing. I only wanted to apply to one school with full confidence that I would get in and didn’t feel like I needed a backup plan. My parents didn’t think it was a good idea to put all my eggs in one basket, so when the guidance counselor suggested I attend an information session on Winston Salem State University I agreed to get them off my case. The admissions counselor pitched a great case for the school and if I wasn’t so set on UNCW, I may have been interested. He offered to take back my applications with no application fee required. That was all I needed to hear to fill mine out. There, everyone could relax; I had a backup plan.

By the time spring semester started, I joined all the other seniors in just wanting to be done. However, each day seemed to creep by. After being gone all summer, Tim had hired someone else to take my spot. As much as I wanted to be angry, I had to understand that I did leave them hanging. I probably needed a change anyway. However, I never thought it would be at a daycare. Kristin told me about an opening at the one she worked at and at the time it made sense with me wanting to be a teacher. They hired me on the spot and I began what I thought was the best job for an aspiring teacher. My parents encouraged me to get back into track or any after school activity that would keep me busy. Track was out of the question. I avoided the coaches daily to keep from having the conversation of why I wouldn’t be running. It should have been blatantly obvious and I had nothing else to say about it. Running track was a thing of my past and I felt it was best to move on. Instead, I picked up more hours at work. I was able to get early work release from school and worked Monday through Friday with weekends off.

In the beginning, I was ecstatic at just the thought of being off every weekend. Reality quickly set in when the first few weekends came and I realized I had nothing to do and no one to call. Kristin spent most weekends volunteering as a way to boost her chances of getting into college and Shanna rarely came home on the weekends. It didn’t seem so bad when Daddy was in town, but when it was just Mommy, I felt like I was the only person on the planet. During these lonely times I would think about Derrick and Jackie and it all seemed so unfair. Shanna suggested I find a weekend job, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea, but did I really want to work 7 days a week?

I convinced myself to swallow my pride and go ask Tim for a weekend position when I happened to come across an ad in the church bulletin. Typically, I wouldn’t read the bulletin but this particular Sunday when Daddy passed me a note to pay attention, there was an ad that caught my attention. It was asking for teen volunteers to work with kid cancer patients. To apply, you had to send a short essay to the volunteer coordinator telling why you would be a good fit and include 2 references. The references were a breeze thankfully, as the Pastor and one of my teachers agreed to write letters for me. The hard part was the essay. It was hard to write about Derrick without feeling like I was writing a sob story. After three days of going back and forth with it, I finally submitted everything. One week later, I heard back that I was accepted. I volunteered on the weekends in the same hospital that Derrick died. My first day being back in the hospital was rough. I was also nervous to be working with sick children. I was surprised though at how easy it was to interact with them. The little things we did for them as volunteers gave them so much joy.

I managed to stay busy with schoolwork, work, and volunteering. I had also heard back that I was accepted into both the schools I applied to. There was no doubt in my mind that I would choose UNCW over WSSU, which made my parents and Shanna happy even though she would be graduating in a few months. I had visited the school on multiple occasions, yet I still took the time to read through each pamphlet and letter that came in the thick acceptance envelope. I smiled from ear to ear as I signed my acceptance letter and when I came to the spot where I had to put my proposed major; I had to think for a while. Teaching had been my focus since I was a child, but with everything that had happened over the last few years, I wasn’t so sure. After some thought, I erased the filled in bubble next to teaching and filled in the one next to nursing. It was such a big switch, but if I could be as wonderful as Shirley and the other nurses who cared for Derrick, the switch would be well worth it.

∞∞∞

There were moments where I would see the simplest things that would remind me of Derrick. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, there were moments of sadness that felt like so overpowering that I felt like I was being smothered. It took time, but things got easier and I slowly began to feel good about my life and my future. That was until prom season came around. Prom was out the question my junior year after Derrick passed, however, everyone seemed to think that no one should miss his or her senior prom. I had looked forward to prom for years, but with Derrick being gone, I had no desire to go. Who would I go with? I had been all about Derrick until his death and didn’t interact with any other guys really and since his death, I felt like guys avoided me like the plague. I couldn’t blame them though and was actually kind of glad. I wasn’t interested in dating anyone and I doubted they could handle the emotional rollercoaster I was on. Kristin suggested I go along with her and two of her other friends, but I wasn’t really feeling that idea either. I didn’t really know the other girls and didn’t want to risk being around people who would question me about Derrick or pity me.

I told Kristin I would think about going to get her off my back about it, but I really had no intentions of going. The night before the last day of ticket sales, I avoided her phone call not wanting to give her chance to guilt trip me into going. I talked with Shanna that night, who could tell that my other line was beeping and that I was not answering. I was hesitant to tell her why I wasn’t answering because I knew she would also try to change my mind.