My Guardian Angel(78)

You see Crohn’s disease attacks the bowels. It’s an inflammatory bowels disease which caused my father to lose weight drastically. The severe bloody diarrhea and abdominal pain were at times too much for him, leaving him exhausted and malnourished. Anything he ate could and would affect him, triggering episodes of pain and exhaustion.

Things became tougher each year that passed at the restaurant. Customers started to decline and so did our profits. We were once known as the best Greek diner, but now hardly anyone ever stopped by.

There were many days when I had to work triple shifts, only because I wouldn’t let him out of the house. It wasn’t easy the last ten years watching my father deteriorate. I cried a lot, but I made sure I cried when no one was around. I couldn’t show them how much I was suffering. My mother’s death hit both of them harder than it did me. I knew it was my fault she had died; had I not been so selfish she would have been here with us today.

The only routine I held onto was my running. Nothing was going to stop me from running in Central Park. Every chance I had I would be there. Even early in the morning when most would be still asleep. The only silver lining about our restaurant was it closed by nine at night. At least we had our nights together.



“I'm not going!” Sofia yelled.

“Ah, let me think about it. Yeah, you’re going! You applied for this scholarship!” I yelled back.

“Yeah, thinking I would get a full scholarship, not a partial! We can’t afford it!” she cried.

“Let me decide what we can afford and cannot afford. You’re not even eighteen yet!” I barked at her.

“Ahh! You’re so bossy!” she cried back.

“I don’t care what I am. You’re going to that school and I don’t want to hear otherwise,” I screamed over my shoulder as she ran up the stairs. I knew my sister. I was the one who raised her. She was feeling guilty. I didn’t care what I had to do, but I was sending her to that fuckin’ school.

“What’s wrong with her?” my father said with his broken English, as he carefully sat down on the couch holding his belly. I sighed, looking at my father, my heart breaking.

“Sofia is being stubborn. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I smiled at him and he smiled back. God, he lost a lot of weight and the steroid pills weren’t helping him. The doctor kept saying that we would have to wait and see. So, I waited.

“Where are you going?” my father asked the moment I got up.

“It’s eleven thirty. If I'm going for a run, I’ll need to sleep. Night, Dad.” I kissed him on his head and marched upstairs to my room.

I walked into a darkened room. I guessed Sofia had gone to sleep. I walked over to my bed and took my pjs.

“Addie? Can I really go?” she asked while she was lying on her bed, her head turned away from me.

“Yes, you will go. I promise,” I said confidently. “Night, Sofia,” I said quietly as I left the room to go to the washroom.

I locked the door to the bathroom and steadied myself on the sink. I looked up and glared at myself in the mirror, angry that I was in this position. Why was life so unfair? I needed to come up with the tuition money, but how? My car wasn’t worth anything. The house still had a mortgage and the store was bleeding money. Before I could cry, I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. Who was this brown haired girl looking back at me? What had happened to me in the last ten years? There was a gentle knock on the door.

“Addie, I need to use the washroom,” my father said meekly.

“Sure, Dad.” I collected my things and opened the door. His condition had worsened once we found out Sofia was only receiving a partial scholarship. It was okay, tomorrow was another day. I’d figure it out tomorrow.

I felt somewhat better after my morning jog. The only thing was I took a little longer than normal. It was already five in the morning, so I had to gun it if I was going to open up the restaurant. I had already made sure my father wasn’t coming in. I hid his keys. It was my usual tactic which he hated, but it always worked. Try as he might, this episode was bad. I had made him soup, hoping he would be able to regain some strength.

The morning rush was okay, better than before so I couldn’t complain. My father hadn’t been here in over three weeks which was a good thing. Had he seen that they were building a chain restaurant right across from us he would have lost it completely.

“This isn’t good,” said Silvia.

She was one of our most loyal patrons. She was a bit eccentric. She wore too much rouge and a very cheap perfume. Her age was completely unknown, but she was old.