Hope
written by: Eamon O’Leary
As the consultant leant forward, he removed his glasses and dropped the bomb.
“I’m sorry to tell you, but it has spread.”
Managing a smile as thin as October ice, he added, almost robotically, “Treatments are improving all the time, with excellent results. There are grounds to be optimistic.”
His words splintered inside me, my brain, on pause, stuttered as it tried to catch up. Tears gathered in my eyes; they neither fell nor went away.
Ruth held my hand. “It’ll be okay, it will.”
From the back of a dry throat, I managed, “What happens now?”
“Well,” the consultant said, “we’ll pass your file, scans, etc, to the oncology team and they’ll be in touch shortly. They are a superbly dedicated group, and I must emphasise it’s vital for you to stay positive.”
He closed the manila folder, stood, and shook my hand. And that was that. I half expected the nurse to call “Next!”
I remember little of our walk to the bus except it rained. Friday 13th. I should’ve known what to expect. We travelled in silence, the antics of schoolkids acting the maggot gave a welcome, short-lived distraction.
In the kitchen, I held Ruth close, felt her body sag, felt the enormity of her sobbing, felt her heartache. Christ, why does this cursed thing have to affect so many lives?
“We’ll have to tell the kids.”
“’Tis Amy and Jack’s anniversary tomorrow. Let’s wait till after the weekend. Now, I’d better go and get myself sorted, Amy said she’d pop over with Teddy this evening.”
Teddy came prepared. A soccer ball under one arm, a rugby one under the other.
“C’mon, Granda, let’s play football.”
And we did. Tries and goals a plenty as a willing septuagenarian and a hyper 8-year-old took on all-comers. The World Cup and Grand Slam were ours. As we high-fived and did our lap of honour around the garden, Ruth called, “Come on, you two, ’tis time for a cuppa and I’ve a hot chocolate for Man of the Match.”
“Granda, when I grow up and play for Ireland, I hope you’ll come an’ watch me?”
I thought … New Treatments – “Goal!”
Excellent Results – “Goal!”
All Clear – “Goal, and it’s a spectacular hat-trick for this old codger.”
I lifted Teddy and threw him skywards, like I’d done a million times, cuddled him tightly and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. I promise.”
- Hope - June 22, 2025
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