“Drop after drop falls on my cheek

is it rain or tears?

I will hide it in my small mystery

I will hide my big misery”

Night again. The stars entered the sky and the moon leisurely is making the scene. The breath of fresh air away from corridors filled with the smell of chemo penetrating my nostrils. At times, it’s making me feel like I am the one taking the meds by inhaling it. I exit the facility and head towards a parking lot. Each step away from that miserable place puts me at peace, at the same time each step away from them, knowing that I had to leave Szymon and Mag there, puts my heart at sorrow. This constant conflict tearing me internally apart.

Few more steps, parking lot, during the day fully filled with cars, now empty with only few cars left, and among those few awaits my best friend – my car. One who stands there patiently, no matter if it’s hot sunny day, which heats up its black paint to the temperatures making the car untouchable or frosty winter day covering the car with snow, so you can barely recognize it among the others. My companion on the way home…

 “If you would have had ears to listen, eyes to see, and mouth to tell me what to do… Well, maybe you do, but I can not hear you because it is me that is constantly talking.”

I heard once that some people believe that cars, as many other objects, have souls. They listen to us, react to our emotions, words, and if you will be mean, it will break on you in least expected, least favorable moment. I do not fully cope with this idea, but still there are times where I joke and talk to my car like it would have ears to listen and mind to decide. In current state, this is the best place for me to release all the tension. Let my emotions go. Allow those words laying deep inside of me to come out, and tiers to fall, well hidden behind the rainy windshield. This is one of those places where I felt save to show my weakness.

Door shut, engine started and the journey began. I said goodbye to the security guide on the way out of the parking lot, and left for home. There are nights when even he gives up and goes to sleep leaving the barrier open, so no one will wake him up when leaving so late. I love road back home, especially at night, when there are not many cars, and once you pass few streets, you enter quite long drive through the woods. Driving in the winter, when trees are covered with snow make this passage even more breathtaking. Or in the autumn when the road is hidden in the fog and I am passing by construction cars, working on the side. Mist make them looked like alien invasion seen on films.

“Dad, I know you can hear me although I can not hear you, see you. Please give me just one little sign that you are with us on this path. Please show me something, which will bring peace to my heart. Something, which will reassure me, that no matter what happens it is your will and nobody else’s. As I know you love us and want what is best for us, but please, I beg you, give me a sign making me certain, that it is not my delusion but your love spread to us.”

Those few minutes that I have in my car when traveling back home gives me a chance to pray, talk to God, ask this reoccurring question “WHY???”, or just say all those things I could not say in front of Szymon. It gives me a chance to cry out all the sadness as I don’t want to show him my powerlessness, which constantly hunted me. Those few minutes spend in the car gives me a chance to make all those little plans of what to do next, as I know that planning for more than a month would be just stupid. And sometimes I could just stay silent and listen to the music, just for couple of minutes, not to think of anything. Just look at the road and take my mind of all the problems I have, we have. I know that it was hardly possible to do but at least I try.

I love road back home, these are those few minutes where I can recharge my batteries for the next day, bring back smile on my face and pretend, or maybe believe, that all is and all will be good. That there is nothing to worry because all those horrifying stories, told about the others flying to heaven, doesn’t have to come true in our case.

“You will not hear me. You will not feel me, but you will know that I am close to you.”