"Stop mom, I am going with you."
"Gol looked at her daughter through the mist of her afflicted eyes pathetically, as if her beautiful; brown eyes had lost their electrifying shine.
"Thanks sweet heart, hurry up." Gol said while her tormented voice was barely audible.
In the taxi, the two women, seventeen years apart in age, shared the same pain, as though the despairing frenzy setting a fire and burring them both. Even the stingy tears turned against them while each looked in a different direction so as their eyes would not meet the expressive depth of the sorrow in the other one. The twenty minutes drive to the doctor's office was spent in absolute silence which was louder than any harangue.
Going up the stairs to the doctor's office, Hana held mom's hand and made her to stop.
"Mom, no matter what, I stand by you."
Gol looked amiably at her daughter and kissed her on the cheek.
"You're becoming my friend."
The old doctor was a respectable and honorable man, who had made a good name for himself practicing medicine. He, who was a friend of family and was also their family doctor, the minute saw Gol and Hana entering his office, got up from his chair. Holding the chair for Gol, he asked Hana to sit down. So far he did what he had normally done in past. Nonetheless Hana's heart seemed coming out of her throat. The ambiance was so intense that one could think an execution was about to take place. He turned the papers of Dad's lab work and other papers that seemed like reports on his desk over and over; while the mother and daughter were impatiently waiting. He finally took off his glasses and looked at Gol.
"I don't know how to start! This is..."
"Is it cancer?" Hana interrupted.
"Well, yes, his kidney..."
Suddenly Gol burst into a flood of tears. All the tears that had dried out in her eyes began flowing. "Oh, God, oh, God,"
Doctor H. got up from his chair and walked around his desk. He hugged Gol, who was about to faint. He called a nurse to come and take Gol to another room while Hana, on her chair was shivering. A world of nothingness was encircling her and no imagination could help her to cope with this calamity. The return of the humane Dr. H. did not disturb Hana's staring eyes to an unknown place. He came to her and held her hands:
"Do you want to cry?"
Hana's tearless, gazing eyes did not move. He held her by the shoulder and began shaking her, as though he was playing a game with another boy. That motion gave Hana a sense of awareness.
"How long does he have?"
"It is hard to say; maybe four to six months. It is metastasized."
By hearing those hideous words and repellent ambiance, she grabbed Dr. H.'s shoulders:
"Why, why? He is only thirty five. He..." She could not continue.
"I wish I knew. I wish there was a cure for cancer. Maybe in future when we're not around anymore, they find a cure for it. Do you know how many patients I have lost to cancer? Each time a part of me is lost, too. I am so sorry."
Hana finally gave in to her uproarious emotions and eased in Dr. H. arms, crying. He kindly caressed her back and hair, while her tears made his white uniform all wet. After the initial shock, when she finally realized how destiny, God, or nature wanted to take her father, that kind, decent man, she shoved Dr. H. away from her and sat straight on her chair.
"What can we do for him?"
"Just give him the best of his life. If he had a dream of going somewhere, now it is the time. Let him and your mother take a trip together." He paused for a moment and then continued: "I know you're very young and it's hard for you to be the anchor of this family now; but from what I hear and know, it is your job now to help your mom and sisters and brothers. You must..."
"Do we tell him? " She broke in ardently.
"It's up to you and to your mom."
"What do you think? What would you do?"
"I won't tell him."
"So we don't tell him; and I won't let my sisters and brothers to know either."
Dallas-
Fourth of July, a day of celebration for Americans, a splendid day for this great country's Independence; however, any fourth of July is a painful experience for Hana. Hana's father would be fifty five years old. When she looks in the dark through the window to all the fire works that go high in sky and come back in the shapes of flowers or other beautiful things, she makes herself to believe that American are celebrating her father's birthday. In the bleak, dreary room, she lights a candle. She tries to picture her dad's face by staring at the flame of the candle, a trick she had learned many years ago; but what she sees is a shapeless glow that flies without direction. Her sons, Farhad and Sam, are with their friends watching the fire works; and Hamid, who cares!
She wonders where her father is at that moment; and a piteous exasperation fills her body. Gnawing and excruciating pains that have captivated her within years, roam inside her and she actually enjoys the feeling of that loathsome affliction. She remembers the last days of her father's life while every one's troublesome love made him to understand the mortal life he was living; and the very short time he had left with his family.
Tehran-
To Be Continued
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