Borrowed time

“I hate you! I wish you’d drop dead. Die!” Those were the last words I ever heard my mom say. Yelling them at my dad as he told her that he loved her. The loudness of those words, like bullets being fired. Up to that point, I had never seen my mom angry before. Not even remotely upset. To this day, I can still see the corners of her lips curving up as she’d scream those things to Dad. But oh! Oh… The irony of the way that she dropped dead after saying those last words. You read that right. Dead. Like the bullet had gotten quicker to her head than it took to spit out of her mouth.

How can someone you’ve loved so much, go... like that? Smiling at the awful things she’d said.

Dad and I could not have been more shocked when her eyes didn’t open again. He thought she was joking for dramatic effects. Sometimes they would do that. Get into dramatic competitions when I’d start throwing a fit. Only to remind me of how childish I looked while demanding (while being undeserving, not needing) their attention. “Honey, get up.” He chuckled. I stared at him, confused by her anger and confused by her collapse. I chuckled along with him to shake the nerves, until we both realized she wasn’t waking up. She had just cussed him out over a bad “olive” joke. And just like that, she was gone. Faster than the punchline of whatever humor dad had shared. The freezing panic of what had happened followed by despair and yelling. This time, coming from my dad.

I think two very important things died along with Mom that day. Something inside Dad, that never quite came back. Something inside of me, that I didn’t even know I had. Instead, I tried to hold on to my mother’s scent. Roses. To her beautiful long blonde hair. To her silky scarves and her porcelain skin. She was very elegant, but she was also very playful. She was an inch taller than dad. Which somehow used to always crack him up. When they’d laugh about something silly, nonsensical, it’d tickle me pink. Anyone could crack a smile and a laugh with them. Whether they had just walked into the room or had been sharing words with them. They were so contagious. Inseparable.

I wish I had understood, then, the weightlessness of the words she said. The freedom and recognition of individuality in them. The safety and security she had in Dad to say them… The love that passionate arguments can bring. But I couldn’t, I was five years old. All I saw was my mother being angry right before she died. And my father’s and my life changed after that.

Shattered glass. The way our lives, and hearts, changed that day felt like shattered glass.

Dad was a very strong man. His walk never faltered. If he ever struggled to make ends meet, I never noticed. “Every step you take, hija, is toward the arena we call life. Always walk strong into that arena.” He used to say religiously before Mom died. After she died, though, he forgot he ever said those words at all. He shrunk about an inch, but he never stopped trying to make me laugh. Oh how I loved that. The way he hid behind his laugh by attempting to tuck in his smile. All while bringing everyone around him back to life. The encouraging words that everyone said, somehow came alive when he’d say them. Whatever monsters were hiding under your bed simply respected him too much to ever show their face. They’d be gone when he walked into your room and gone before they could chase away your sleep. The times Dad said the monsters stayed under my bed were the times they were there to help. It’s almost as if he turned them into the protectors now living under there. Only he could do that. Turn something terrible and scary, into a safety net of comfort and protection.

Gold. This man was invincible. I didn’t just have a protector, I had found a hero. He was everything to me.

I think people liked him a lot because of the simplicity that summed up to him. In the way that gold was simple. Shiny, but plain. Dad’s simplicity brought confidence, and trust—most importantly it brought trust. What you saw was what you got, with him. I was nothing like him and I wondered why. I could feel resentment creeping up. The resentments towards Mom I would water every time dad was sad. Though he was unbreakable, there were times that sadness would just catch up.

My methods for helping came hidden in distractions. “Dad, have you seen this? Dad, did you know? Dad, look!” He would try to pay attention, shift focus back to me, but I knew there were times I needed to just let him be. Struggling in the silence, without being able to support my dad the ways he was supporting me, hurt. Though we were walking both in hurt, he never let his overshadow mine. I’ll never understand how he did it. He worked so hard, helped me with my homework, cooked our meals and never tried to replace Mom.

The only surprises that would find me were the times I’d miss her, too. I missed her so much. Almost too much for a five year old to bare. “You’re just like your mom,” Dad would occasionally say when he saw the aching in my chest. Cause he knew it’d make me smile. “Tell me more, daddy. What were the funny things she did? I forgot what she was like.” Startled by the question, I could see his eyes travel somewhere else. “Well…” he cleared his throat, “she was complicated.” And laughed so hard his eyes began to cry. Puzzled by his tears, sadness overcame me. “I’m just crying out the overflowing love I have for her, Kat.”

Being as young as I was, I couldn’t understand what that meant. Or why talking about my mom would make him cry and smile at the same time. “I didn’t mean to make you sad, dad. I’m sorry, I won’t ask again.” “No, mija, it’s not that. I just… I feel what you feel.” His finger tip landed on my chest. “In here. It’s the love you have for your mom. It’s so strong, and so much. All that muchness overflows. Like water in a glass. My glass with her was always full.” “Too full!” I’d try to joke. “No hija, there’s no such thing as a glass too full with love.”

Oh how I thirst for that abundance of love. Reminiscing of these times always made the days blink by. Ring! Ring! Ring!

“Goodness!” I jumped up and made a staggered walk across my store. That must’ve been fourteen years ago. I made my way through the hats I’d just put out for display this morning. Only my dad would buy me a store for hats and scarves and let me secretly run it under him. To be honest, I think he felt the closeness to Mom in it that I found just standing still in it. I looked at the ringing phone and sighed. I miss you, pops.

“Hi mija! How are you? How’s the store?” He could hear my smile, “Dad! I was just thinking about you. It’s great. Money’s good, aren’t you glad I got a telephone so you could reach me here?” He chuckled. My chest felt warm, I could feel his laughter hugging me. “Any new men in your life? You’re getting old, you know!” “Dad, nineteen is still a perfectly good age to find a man and marry.” I paused. “You’re blushing! You found someone, didn’t you?” He teased me. Uncontrollable word vomit made it out my mouth and through the phone. “Daddy, I think I’m gonna marry him! He’s perfect!” And just like that I was that little five year old I had just left in my memories a short few minutes ago.

There it was again. His laughter hugging me. “Well I hope he can wait just a few more weeks. I have a surprise for you! Guess what I got us tickets for?! You’ll never guess. I lucked out, wait till I tell you how I got them—” “Dad! What is it? What’s your surprise?” My smile grew wider with each word. “Goodness I forget you hold your breath when I say that. Breathe, hija. It’s only the best travel opportunity in the world! A once in a lifetime opportunity! It’s a trip on the Titanic! It’s the world’s largest ship! Unsinkable! They’re calling it the ship of dreams!” My eyes peeled back and my mouth went dry. “Are you joking, daddy?!” I was gripping the phone so tightly I thought I would break it. “Not one bit! You’ll be seeing your daddy tomorrow for boarding this weekend! We’re going to New York!”

Thrill. Excitement, hope, enthusiasm… adventure! We’re going on a new adventure. To a new place, surrounded by new people. Many people!

I was so excited about the news, I forgot to tell him all about my soon-to-be husband. I was so excited, I hung up on him so that I could close the shop and get to packing. I had to go tell the ladies at the supermarket. I couldn’t wait to see their eyes with envy. The weekend came too soon. I had never seen so many people gathered around the dock before. The ship, well that you could see from miles and miles away. Everyone in town was there! I wonder if — “Katheryn! Looking for someone other than your pop?” Dad hugged me so tightly. Home. “No daddy, I was looking for you.” I’ll see him when I get back.

“Feeling dreamy today?” Dad smiled with his eyes as he stared out at the ship. We’ll drop off our stuff and explore right after? Look at all those people watching us board. Every single person here today is sharing a dream, Kat. We’re sharing a once in a lifetime moment. A moment where you get a glimpse at the dreamers that live inside all of us.” I could see the tears in his eyes. “Mom would have loved this. I can see her smiling down at us.” His tears, making their way down his cheeks is a vivid memory in my heart. I was cognizant that I was recording this moment in my memory, but I hadn’t even realized my eyes were doing the same. Tears, all around. “Here’s to the best five and a half days of our lives!” He screamed.

“This ship is too big to explore in just five days! How are we going to live it to its potential?!” Dad shrieked. We explored every area that we could. There were some restrictions, depending on class-of course. But overall, our class allowed us access to the majority of the ship. There were games to be played, food to be had, music to be heard, sun to be absorbed. Like dad said, too much to explore! On the second day, Dad and I decided to give each other space. What that meant for me, was that I got to sleep in the beautiful comfy bed while Dad went out to explore.

“I’m going to go find a newspaper and read it on the top deck, Kat. When you wake up, find me there.” On his way up the stairs he heard a few kids laughing. One of the kids was not laughing. Overcome with intimidation and shame, the kids that were picking on that smaller boy straightened up and quickly placed their hands behind their back. “What are you guys doing?” Dad said strictly. “Nothing!” and the kids ran off. The little boy that was being picked on had gotten his tooth knocked out by being pushed down the stairs. “We were just playing, sir.” He said, holding out his tooth. A young man came running in from the end of the hallway. Relief overcame the boy’s face as he closed his hand hiding his tooth.

“Thank you, sir. It means the world to me you were there to help my little brother out. Bugger’s always getting picked on. Sometimes, rightfully so, he’s often playing tricks on people.” “Takes one to know one!” Dad joked and the little boy laughed. “It gets me into trouble, too, you know. But life’s much more fun that way!” He winked at the little boy. The boy responded with a smile. With a strong long stretch of his right arm, he said, “I’m Andy.” My dad shook his hand and saluted him. “Pleasure to meet you, Andy. I’m Dave Norville.” “Thank you, again, Mr. Dave. I’m Jacob. Would you like to come and have dinner with my family tonight?”

“I’m here with my daughter. Is she welcome too?” “Certainly. It’ll be our pleasure to have you both. I’m sure my parents will get a crack out of how you two met.” Jacob rubbed the top of Andy’s head and gave a grin. “5:30pm on the fourth floor. The restaurant’s called Time. Ask for the Rivers’ party.” “Will do, Mr. Rivers. I look forward to seeing you then.” Andy laughed and repeated “Mr. Rivers,” to Jacob before turning and walking away.

When I met dad at the deck, his grin told me he had something to tell. “Boy do I have a story for you.” He laughed. “Let’s get you a nice dress.” Later that evening when we arrived at Time, Dad was projecting some nerves. “You alright, dad?” “Right this way, Mr. Norville.” I could feel anticipation building in my stomach. Were dad’s nerves that contagious? I saw a handsome gentleman stand up and turn his back to the entrance of the restaurant. “Jacob?!” My heart skipped a beat. Dad could tell I stopped breathing. He flicked his nose with his index finger to remind me to breathe, the same way he always did.

“When did you change your name?!” I laughed. Dad cracked a big smile. “Katheryn?! This is my family, from my mom’s side. My dad and uncles are having a meeting-reunion to discuss business. We decided to enjoy the evening, instead.” “I take it you know each other?” Dad interrupted. I turned bright red. Andy busted out laughing, “Katheryn’s the name of Jacob’s girlfriend!” Jacob smiled at Dad and said, “Sir, it really is a pleasure to have met you.”

The next two days were unbelievable. As incredible and dreamy as the ship we were on. My father met, and got to love, my fiance. We spent time with each other’s families. We solidified our engagement and started the life we had only dreamed about the last few months. We lived a love that was filled with adventure, hopes, dreams, our families, ourselves and each other. I couldn’t have imagined life to be so perfect.

Then, the following day came. How can I even talk about the following day? It’s so hard to. My unwavering memory fails me every time I think of the specifics of that day. It comes and goes in waves. The same waves that came and took the ship. There was a complication with unforeseen icebergs–they say. Hidden underneath the surface, like many things these days. The boat was too big to turn and avoid it, it wasn’t fast enough. What followed was chaos, panic, destruction… death. The alarms were going off and the evacuation was a flawed system. Unprepared for a tragedy like this, I don’t think many people knew what to do. Overcome with desperation, desolation and despair.

Jacob and I were running to meet my father where the lifeboats were being loaded. I thought Dad was right behind me, but when we got to the boat, I couldn’t find him. That was the moment I lost my father. Jacob convinced me to get in, ‘he’ll catch the next one, I promise’ he said. Lost in my haze I did what he was saying. Without him, I probably would have died along with all the people that lost their lives that day. On our way down to the water I found my father’s face near one of the railings. I screamed so loud but everything was silenced. Everything was in slow motion. He saw the panic in my eyes. Somehow, he was overcome with tranquility after mouthing words to Jacob.

Dad looked at me and said, "A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking because her trust is not in the branch, but her own wings. Believe in yourself." That was the only thing I heard for days.

There was no consolation for me. Jacob tried every and anything to make me smile. My life was drained of color and I even stopped opening my store. Everything was bleak until the day I fainted on a walk home from the market. That day, Jacob and I found out we were expecting a baby. My life had life again.

Meaning. Finding meaning in a new life. How daunting of a thought that turned out to be.

The months went by as Jacob and I tried to be the best versions of ourselves. We wanted to have a loving and safe environment for our baby to grow up in. A month till the due date, I found myself back in the hospital. My stomach, it’s just too big. Something’s not right. I ended up having an emergency operation that resulted in me birthing two babies. Two beautiful twin babies. A baby girl we named April and a baby boy we named Dylan.

Occasionally, Jacob would catch me missing Dad. “Life is like a flower, love. Sometimes when you think it’s dying, a little water and a little love can bring it back to life. That’s what April and Dylan are. A little drop of water and a little drop of love.” I smiled because everything he said was full of truth. For some reason, though, the only truth for me came with just one word. Roses.

Why couldn’t I stop thinking of my mom? Why am I up in the middle of the night, staring at Jacob as he sleeps? Looking at the pictures of our beautiful toddlers as he’s peacful in his dreams.

I wish my dad was here. I’d do anything to have him again. I could feel my heart’s arms yearning for his hugs. The emptiness without his laughter is paralyzing. I wish, I wish, I wish dad could be here. My heart screamed as the silence took me back into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, something incredible happened. I must’ve woken up in a dream. I heard screaming and alarms going off and panic. The panic woke me up. Only this time, everyone I got woken up to share that panic with me. Everything seemed so familiar. The smell, the music, the sounds, the machinery, the cold… I’m.. in… April 14, 1910. You guessed it, I woke up in the Titanic. What is going on?! My mind has tired of playing tricks on me. I’ve had this dream a million times. But, why does it feel so real?

“Katheryn! Hurry!! We have to get out of here! The ship is sinking!! Andy and my aunts have already been loaded into a boat. They may be running out of boats, we have to make our way there NOW!” Which meant I only had 1 hour and 40 minutes to find dad and rescue him. Maybe this time, in this dream, Jacob and I will have the chance to finally have him hold ____. “Jacob, I cannot leave without my dad! Last time, I did! And he didn’t make it! I can’t live with that again!” “What are you talking about?! My dad worked out a deal, we should have a boat waiting for us, we just have to hurry!” “No! I listened last time and I trusted you. My dad was a floor below the boat loadings and he never made it to our boat! I can’t leave him. I can’t hear his riddled goodbye again. Not one more time!”

I woke up, like always, drenched in sweat. I could smell my hair, only to confirm I’d been in and out of sweats all night. When will the nightmares stop? When will this nightmare ever end? It’s another day and Jacob will not be a part of it. As I leave the discomfort of my bed, I grab my depression and wrap myself in the comfort that it brings. Wrapped in it like the blanket my mother used to wrap me in. Roses.

It had been six months since I’d rescued Dad from the Titanic. The image of losing him five and a half years ago, now replaced by the image of losing Jacob only half a year ago. Accompanied by the grief of losing April and Dylan. How could my world ever make sense again? I managed to make my way to Dad’s room. I hope he’s doing better than I am today.

“You look worse than me, Kat. What’s wrong?” “I told you dad, I know it doesn’t make sense. But I had a life with Jacob. We had two beautiful twin babies.” I cleaned off the flowers that were dying from his bedside table and added some water to the vase. Somehow, just being around him, the heaviness didn’t feel so heavy. So much for promising myself I wouldn’t talk about them today.

“You keep talking about this other dream, mija, and I just wonder how much harm that’s causing.” “Well of course it’s causing harm, dad. I can’t find an end to this nightmare. I can’t find the magic that brought me back to you. I can’t see a way back to them!” “Well, honey, maybe this was never about the perfect ending. I mean, life is never like that. Maybe… this dream of yours was just that. A dream. A hope so beautiful, so real, so tangible, that it’ll last with you forever. I mean, isn’t that magic enough?”

“Dad, I lost you, but I had him. I had my babies. But, I couldn’t get past the fact that I didn’t have you. Now, I have you, I don’t have them. And I’m still losing you. It’s not fair you’re dying only half a year after the sinking.” The tears, the pleads, the snot… it all came out.

“Borrowed time.” he said.

“We don’t know how quickly I will die. We don’t know how much time we truly have. Sometimes, all we get is borrowed time. If you say I died on that ship, maybe I was meant to die. It wasn’t easy losing your mom.” “How- how did you do it dad?” Embracing a pause, he sipped his water. “Sometimes you just have to go back, to find what you lost. Remember all the times we lost things? I made you have to go back to the last place that you saw it. Maybe that’s what your dream was about. Going back to find something you had lost. The coming back is the hardest part. Most people don’t even bother to go back. They accept the things they lost and move on. But you were never like that, mija. It’s that stubbornness. Unapologetically, irreversibly yourself. It’s that part of your mother I love so much.” He coughed and simultaneously laughed.

“I guess, I guess I did need closure. You know, I couldn’t move on with a family of my own without the closure of our family–our family with mom… I couldn’t stand the thought of her dying hating you. And me, hating her for it. It’s like when she died, I built all these resentments I didn’t even know I had. And when I had babies of my own, there was a disconnect inside of me. Roses. I keep smelling her perfume. Rose scented everything.”

“Kat, your mom didn’t hate me. Why would you say that? Because of what she said? She–” “She said she hated you dad. She said she wished you’d drop dead, smiling.” Dad was puzzled. “She looked at you. Before her aneurysm took her, she died smiling up at you. She caught herself, the way she always did when she was upset.” Instantly, I saw the scene I had played a thousand times in my head. Only this time, I kept the memory rolling.

I saw Mom, yelling at dad, with her two neck veins popping out. She shifted her sight to me. She caught herself being angry, and it's almost as if just as quickly, she realized she was not angry anymore, and stopped being angry altogether. Her lips were beginning to curve. Not because of the anger and the mean things she had just said, but because she saw me. Mom was smiling, the same way she always did when she was being silly–or embarrassed. *I* was mad that I didn’t get to see that smile again before she hit the floor. So, I blocked it out. I kept her as a monster (though she never was) just so that I could let her go. I clung to my father as if he was my lifeboat. My oxygen mask. My life.

“Hija, life is about learning how to die, and everything that comes with death. As much as it is about learning how to live.” “How can you say that, dad?” “It starts when you’re young. Not getting what you want, coping with changes, saying goodbye to friends because they have to move. It’s about learning who you are through those moments by seeing what loss and grieve are to you. The letting go, mourning, grieving… it’s like dreaming and waking up. The end of something only to watch something new begin.”

Pause

“The way I hear it, you had a beautiful dream, and if there’s nothing you can do, then that’s all that it was. But since when has a dream of yours been anything short of magic? Dreams are only dreams if they’re forgotten about when you wake up. You gotta–”

“Take ‘em with you.” I interrupted. “And leave the nightmares on the back burner–” “For fuel, for courage.” I interrupted again. “Kintsugi The gold that pieces the broken pieces back together. Hope. Believe. Love. The key is in taking it, applying it and patiently putting the pieces back together.” “How do I know the pieces will even fit? That’s what shattered means, pa. Can’t be pieced back together.” I said as I wiped the snot off my nose. Stop. Just stop. Stop saying goodbye. In the way only you can say goodbye. “Who’s to say it has to be the same shape it was before? Isn’t that what growth is? Something bigger, something different.”

Art. Having loved and lost. Having learned and grown.

I’d like to tell you that I got another second chance. That I found magic once again and that I saved both Jacob and my dad. But that was not the case. I lost my father in the first sinking of that ship. I lost my husband in the second sinking of that ship. I lost my father, my best friend, a year and a half after that. I gave things I didn’t know I was giving up, for just a small amount of borrowed time with him. Had I known I’d be giving up a life with Jacob, for just a year and half with my dad again, I’d like to say that I’d have chosen differently. But if I had the choice– I’d do it all again.

I’d give it all up to keep that additional time with Dad. Mourning with him, learning with him, loving with him, living with him. He was my best friend, my teacher, my hero. Waking up from any dream is worth any additional borrowed time I’d have with him, because it is he who taught me the meaning of a dream. He taught me how to love and how to lose. How to say goodbye and, now, how to start again. You might think, how can a woman give up a life with her husband and her kids? I don’t blame you. The truth is, I lived that life. With my husband and my kids. I loved them. Deeply and unconditionally. The life I lived with them will forever be in my heart. Jacob made me a wife, April and Dylan made me a mother. Nothing will ever change that.

However, the life I had with them gave me a brokenness I wouldn’t have been able to heal without my dad. My pieces would have remained just that, pieces. Though I loved them each to pieces, they deserved more than that. They deserved to be loved wholly, the way my heart is barely now mending. My second chance at life was a life of healing. A life full of dreams. The life I got from the short-lived borrowed time with Dad, was the life that brought me back to life. I found myself, my father and my mom. There is a forgiveness that lives inside of me now that constantly reminds me why it had to be this way.

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.” When I hear his riddles, the love overflowing with its muchness turns to gold. Gluing the pieces back together.

With time I understood that ship really was my ship of dreams. It was the sinking ship that equated to the broken branch. And my father was my, now mended, wings. A sinking ship does not mean sunken dreams. As much as a broken branch does not mean a fallen bird. Like love, and like dreams, some things live on forever.