"What if I don't get better?"
A tiny wooden bird.
"Then I'll keep making you ridiculous birds."
I laughed through my tears. "Promise?"
"Promise."
***
Six weeks before my final appointment, Dad stopped visiting.
Mom claimed he was overwhelmed with orders. When I couldn't reach him, she said he'd damaged his phone.
We'll build something bigger.
A week later, her story changed.
"He's helping relatives out of state."
"Which relatives?"
"Stop exhausting yourself with questions, Nora."
"Dad's never gone this long without calling."
Dad stopped visiting.
"You're exhausted, Nora. Stop worrying."
"Why isn't anyone else calling either?"
"I told everyone you needed rest."
"Even Walter?"
"Especially Walter. You need to recover."
Stop exhausting yourself.
Chemotherapy left me too weak to argue.
I'll visit Dad when I'm better, I promised myself.
***
Six weeks later, Dr. Harris smiled.
"Nora, your scans show no evidence of active disease."
