Thursday, April 14, 2011
My name is Kaitlyn. I wrote this personal narrative story last year, right before i went to see him for the summer. I apologize for the grammar mistakes, but this story explains what I went through. Well, not even close to half of the feelings i felt for him. I was his precious, always will be. Slow Motion There�s always that one relative who stands above the others. There�s always that one person you can�t live without. There is always that one person, that one relative, you love the most. For me, his name is Phil Quatrino. He is and will forever be my best friend. He is the one I love most, the one I cannot live without. Precious, is what he called me. Whenever I saw him, there would be a thousand hugs and kisses waiting to suffocate me. I was special to him, like one of his own daughters. For 80 years Uncle Phil was a giant ball of energy. But, things took a very wrong turn and headed straight for the worst. The last time I saw my dear Uncle Phil, he was shaking like an earthquake, eyes gleaming with nothingness. I could see myself in his eyes, in his foggy, sinful, unmoving eyes. His fear was shown through me. Pitch black screams of loved ones surrounded our quaint cabin in Pinetop, AZ. I didn�t know what to do, or what to say. I was speechless and all I could do was stare. Filled with shock, staring was the only thing I could do. I couldn�t move or nearly speak. My mind was at a complete blank. All I could do was watch my best friend unfold in front of me. I heard the blaring sirens. I turned to see what was happening behind me. I unhooked from the nightmares in my uncles eyes, to see men in highlighter yellow suits rushing towards the front door. My grandma was crying, terrified as she and my mom directed them towards my uncle. It took most of my energy to look back at him. He had stopped seizing. His eyes were blank and closing slowly. I felt a single tear quietly trickle down my cheek, then more followed. I could feel my stomach turn into a knot and my heart breaking. I didn�t have much time. I was losing him. The paramedics gently but sturdily carried him to a large stretcher and into the ambulance. My grandmother was the only one who went in with him ambulance. All my mom and I could do was wait. Tick Tock Thoughts of my Uncle Phil on his death bed softly enveloped my mind. He was there, at the Pinetop hospital, unconscious while the nurses and doctors were counting the minutes until his death. I was counting the minutes. I was getting closer to loosing him. The phone rang. My mom slowly walked over to it. As she picked up the phone, one last tear streamed down her face. It must have been my grandma calling. Her face was sullen , but something seemed to make her brighten up, just a quiet shade, as she was talking. She hung up the phone and told me to get dressed, we were visiting to the hospital. We walked into the room where they put my Uncle Phil. When w walked in, the room seemed to gradually fill with darkness and sadness. My grandmother told us that he had a heart attack and that he would most likely be fine, but he may get worse in a few years. Just to know that he wasn�t dying right then was as though the weight of the world was lifted off of my shoulders The only thing that mattered was that he was alive. Two days passed since his heart attack. Uncle Phil was finally able to come home. My mom and I were at the house as my grandma brought him in. He could walk but not sturdily. Slower than a snail, he made it safely to the door. I was afraid to approach him, so I just stayed in the background as my mom gave him welcome back hugs. I felt emotion that I have never felt before. I had every emotion fly through my body at light speed. I�ve never felt like this and rushed to the bathroom. There was a girl in the mirror that I didn�t recognize. This girl had worry and pain plastered on her face. It was full of pain, sorrow. That face of that unrecognizable girl was me. Witnessing a dear friend near his time of death had took an unexpected toll on me. Tears raced each other on the racetrack of my cheek, passing the finish line of my chin. The bigger drops enveloped the smaller ones surrounding it, as raindrops on a window shield would do. It was time to go back out to the living room. He was sitting on the same couch that he had been when an earthquake shook him from inside, like a small child rattling its toy. Fear struck me again, and again, getting worse with every step I took towards him. He must have heard me walking towards him because he looked in my direction. The corner of him mouth turned up into a small, but heart warming smile. My tears started the next round in their race as I walked a little bit faster to get to my uncle. Being next to my true best friend was now urgent. It pained me to see him sitting there, in that same spot, his eyes following my every move towards him. I sat next to him and felt all the pain and suffering he went through from his heart attack. I nestled my face into his neck and fell asleep to the uneven pulse of his heart. Time for Recovery? Two years passed. Life was speeding by at an unstoppable pace. My dear Uncle Phil was put in a nursing home. I have heard rumors of those places. It is easy to pick favorites at a nursing home, but my uncle wasn�t one of them. Instead, they let him sleep the days through, on scratchy sheets and a tattered pillow. Things for him are getting bad, and for the family, things are worse. His immediate family barely recognizes him as a person anymore. They come and visit every so often but just leave him there most of the time. They barely recognize that he is sick. Who does recognize him? Who will always be there for him? Me. Death was nearer than we thought. I was now a sophomore at Mountain Ridge High School. Forgetting everything that happened, just two years before, was not the easiest thing in the world. Teenage drama passed through me, took its never forgotten toll on me, then moved on to its next innocent bystander. But, as days drag on with dramatic friendships, drug addictions, and the ever so popular you-cheated-on-me-with-my-best-friend-you-lying-cheating-scumbag incidents, it was difficult to focus on one thing at a time. I knew he was safe though, at least for now. He would have to live out the rest of his life in the infected nursing home. But, yes, I had a feeling he was safe there. My daily routine had gotten monotonous and very much the same as every other day. But, this particular day would leave a hole. This hole would be big enough to fit my teenage heart breaks into it, would scar my emotions. Happy Hour It was his birthday, and my Uncle Phil was 86 years old. I would be able to talk to him. I would be able to talk to my beloved friend. For some reason, I felt like today was going to finally be one of those days where everything right. I knew today was going to be a great day, for it was raining and rain, for me, can only bring good things. I went through my normal routine at school, some drama here, a dash or relationship madness there. My day, always slow, seemed to go even slower that day, but mostly because I was so excited to talk to him. School finally finished at the normal time of 2:10 PM. I got on the bus and listened to all the conversations around me. Someone talking about their plans for the coming weekend and the other talking about how they were going to go to a wild party that night. I got off the bus. My house was a fair amount of steps away. With every step I took, the gentle raindrops grazed me face and my arms like they were greeting me and telling me everything would be alright. In less than 10 minutes, I would be in my cozy house, striking up a conversation with my best friend. Everything would finally fit into place in my life, I would be happy. They brightly tickled my cheeks but that made me smile just a little bit more. The brisk walk through the joyous rain made me think of happy things. I was home. Before I walked through the front door I took a big breath in and exhaled. I walked through the empty house and set my stuff down in my room, as always. Everyone has already called him and I would finally get my chance. I haven�t spoken to him since he left to go back to New York, two years ago. I have missed him and I knew for a fact that he missed me. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. My heart fluttered like a butterfly, as the phone rang. One ring. Two. Three times. �Hello?� he answered the phone. Moment of Truth �Uncle Phil? It�s Kaitlyn! I have missed you so much,� I blurted. �Who is this?� he asked, somewhat confused. �Its Kaitlyn, Uncle Phil,� I replied. He simply left me with an �Ok� and hung up. Alright, I thought, maybe it was just a bad connection. Maybe I wasn�t speaking loud enough. So, I called the number again, this time it only rang once before the voice of my uncle picked up. I tried explaining to him that I think we had a bad connection. He just agreed and replied �Ok� to everything I said. �Uncle Phil, do you remember me? Do you know who I am?� I asked him. �Oh ok,� he said again, and hung up. The phone dropped between my fingers and I began to cry. Today was the day my happiness rose to its highest peak. Today was the day my happiness dropped to its all time low. Today was the worst day. I sat there in awe and amazement for almost 15 minutes just thinking how could he not remember me. As I sat there and thought about my best friend, I could hear my aching heart cry for want. I decided to call my grandma and ask her what he said to her. She explained to me that he did the same thing for both my mother and her. She would tell me, through my painful sobs, that he is extremely sick and nothing about that is stoppable. For sure, I knew my best friend was dying and possibly did not have very much time left. We are going to visit him in August. We are going to see if he does remember us. Something tells me that he probably will not even make it until then. I may never get to see my best friend again. Sometimes, these things happen, people tell me. He will be in a better place surrounded by happiness and he will watch over you. He will always be your guardian angel. I will always love my Uncle Phil. He will always have the biggest and warmest spot in my heart, all to himself.