“WEEEEOOOOH!! WEEEOOOOHHH!! WEEEEOOOOHHH!!!” The sirens of the ambulance roared. No, I didn’t hear it, but I could feel it and the intensity….
His name was John. I’m guessing he was about eighteen years old. I was at a young age at the time when he was well. I don’t remember most of the memories with him, but I can see we had fun in the pictures that I’ve seen.
There was one picture when we went to the beach. I think I was about 5 years old and he was hugging me and taking me out to the deeper end. But I knew I was having fun by the look of my face and it made me smile. Then there was another picture when we were at their house for my younger sister’s birthday. She was turning two in 2001. We huddled together and took a picture. We were all grinning so happily and yet he had the biggest smile. It was glowing, like the center point. When you look at the picture, his smile would be the first thing you see. My older brother said, “He was a jerk.” But I don’t believe so. I believe that he was kind and that he loved us.
There was only one scene that I actually remember him in. I forgot what year it was but it was probably somewhere in kindergarten. My brother, Tom and Thien, John’s younger brothers, took me to laser tag and John went to buy something and he said he was going to come back. They paid for me to go to laser tag, but it was all so dark and seemed frightened me by the faint lights and it felt almost as if I couldn’t see a thing that the insides of my body were shaking. All of that rush sped up to my lungs, which led out a shriek and I made a run for it. They didn’t know I left but I didn’t care. I just waited and sat outside, not knowing I might get kidnapped, calming down. Soon John came jogging back and asked me what’s wrong. I told him I was too scared to go back in there because it was dark and full of older people. He tried comforting me and it did feel better. So he told me to come back in and play with him. I went back in, slowly taking deep breaths, trying to hold in the bad feeling I was getting. And believe it or not, I actually liked it. Since then I loved playing Laser Tag.
Before I knew it he began to have cancer. At that time I didn’t know what in the world that was, but how everyone made it sound like made me feel scared. My brother told me that he had cancer twice. The first time, they cured it. But then the second time…. the doctors couldn’t. I remembered wanting to go in the hospital but my parents said to stay in the car with my dad in the parking lot. I was eager to go in and see what’s going on, but at that time no one told me. I never got to see John until a few weeks later. We went to their house and I went straight to his room. He was wearing hospital clothes and had all that hospital things around his nose and arms. And the thing that frightened me most was his hair. His head was shaved and it kind of freaked me out a little. I’ve never seen him like that before and I didn’t plan on seeing it either, but I still felt sympathy for him. When I walked in he greeted me with my Vietnamese name in a weak voice, like it was going to crack into a high pitch. I came over, hugged him and talked to him a little. Then I went out of the room to play with my other cousins for a while. When it was time to say “goodbye”, I went back in the room and hugged him once more and told him to get better so we could play again. He smiled but it seemed as if he was holding the pain in.
Soon enough he was back in the hospital. I remembered waiting in a room impatiently with a bunch of other people I didn’t know. My older brother was eating Hot Cheetos and I was spinning a nickel, trying to show off that I could do it, looking out the window at the same time. I overheard my parents telling my older brother that when they were seeing John, he was having surgery. They said he was screaming and yelling and I felt my throat twist. It must’ve felt really painful. At first, I thought that was a silly thing. John? Screaming and yelling? But he was so brave and everything. I wanted to go see him so badly but I still couldn’t, because I was so very young. Every time I saw my aunt, she cried her eyes out and it made me want to cry as well.
Then it was the end. He died. Now just talking about it makes my throat twist and stop typing. I remembered going to a church and all of my mom’s side was there. I didn’t cry, I have no idea why. But if I was a little older, for sure I would’ve cried. My family went up to his coffin, seeing his bald head with his eyes closed, praying. I had no idea what to pray for, so I just closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see him laying there. When it was time to go, everyone stood up got a rose and put it in the coffin or was it on the coffin? I don’t remember but my uncle gave me a rose to give John. It had my heart beating because this was the last time I was ever going to see him. I really thought that he was going to survive. And the worst part is… he was my cousin.
John Le, died at the age of eighteen because of cancer. One of my family members is gone. One less cousin to count when I try to add up my cousins every once in a while. I wish he was here with me and see how everyone in his life turned out to be. See how the world changed since he’s passed away, since he’s left our lives.
