Sad News

“I’ve got bad news.” I could tell my dad’s voice was a little shaky even over the phone. The words made my mind race through thoughts as to what might have happened and I almost instantly recalled the last time we talked, and what the subject was.

“Frank is getting worse,” my God Father’s first name answered my own thoughts. “I went down to California to visit with him and Maria and he isn’t doing well.” He paused with a sigh, “I’m amazed at how well she is coping with all of this, hell she was even comforting me.”

My mind retraced the last bit of news I had about Frank Hughes. He had gotten lung cancer with never smoking a day in his life. It was the office of the 70’s and 80’s, smoke filled and uncaring about second hand exposure.

“He has a real hard time talking, when he does it even for a little bit he ends up getting out of breath, almost like he ran several miles or something.” My mind could only picture him as being health and with a smile. I don’t think I had ever seen him in any condition other than healthy and enjoying life. “The hardest part was, while Maria was out me and him were talking and he asked me if I could do him a favor. Of course I could only say yes.” He paused, maybe thinking of how to word what he was to say next or just trying to remain calm and not cry about his best friend. “He wanted me to write a letter to Maria for him, while he narrated. It took a while as he needed to rest often, God he sounded horrible.”

I had never been very religious after having moved out of the house, but listening to my father talk about God made me think the thought many people must think when a loved one is sick, and dying. “How the f**k could god let something like this happen.”

“After Maria got home I tried telling her what Frank was having me do and I started crying, and she was the one consoling me. I felt silly, his wife helped me feel better while I cried about her husband lying in a bed, dying. It was so hard to see him like that…” He trailed off in thought.

I had been quiet the whole time, with the occasional agreeable sound. And I still couldn’t think of anything to say. The conversation continued, eventually moving to a lighter subject, until I said I had to go as my time was running out. He understood, being deployed you only had fifteen minute call limits so you didn’t hog up the lines that others could be using.

Days passed and work kept me busy and I realized I hadn’t been able to check my email in several days. I opened up yahoo and typed in my password, not even glancing down to watch my fingers zip across the keyboard in the familiar path for user and password. The page loaded and there in the inbox I saw a message titled ‘Sad News’ from dad. Without a second thought I knew already what it said and felt my eyes begin to water. I tried to hide it in the back of the shop, but I was around a little cubicle wall so there was no need to, I just held it back so no tears fell yet. I double clicked it and confirmed my thoughts. My father had received word from Frank’s oldest that he past away.