“A Good Reason”

A micro memoir by Cassie McMillan (9).

“Your grandma has cancer,” my dad said.

I paused my walking but I still didn’t turn around. 

“That’s why I wanted to talk,” he continued.

I remembered back to when I yelled at him through the door. When I looked around my dirty room with laundry strewn everywhere. When I cried from a sad movie. When my headache from waking up too early made itself known. When I was a mess. A knock on my door interrupted my sulking. 

“Hey, can you get changed? We’re going for a walk,” my dad said.

I wiped away my tears and cleared my throat in an attempt to sound more put together.

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” I wasn’t proud of the way my voice cracked halfway through but I couldn’t go outside and hold a conversation when I felt like snapping at anyone and everyone.

“Why?” he asked. 

“I just can’t,” was my only reply. 

“All right well, you need to. Get ready, we’ll go in ten.” 

I opened my mouth to argue back but I could hear his steps fading out as he walked away. 

In the end, I didn’t change nor get ready for walking but eventually, he did come back.

“Are you ready?” he asked. 

“No,” I said, not trusting my voice to say anymore. 

“What-! Why?” 

“I told you! I can’t go on the walk.” 

“Get changed or I’m taking all of your electronics.” 

“So what? It’s not like I need them to live! Why do you even want to go on a walk?”

He never answered my question. So we continued going back and forth.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s get this over with,” I reluctantly agreed.

When I left my room I brushed past him. I opened the door like I was waiting for him. I clenched my teeth as I walked. He tried to start up a conversation but I continued to shoot him down. I didn’t respond to anything my dad said, only piping up to make various comments about how he couldn’t make me talk.

Finally, my dad gave up and simply stated, “Your grandma has cancer. That’s why I wanted to take you on this walk,”

I was angry. I didn’t want to hear whatever reason he had for this, even if it was a good one. And I knew I wasn’t ready for this walk, he was just proving my point. 

“Okay,” I responded, my throat closed up a bit. 

We got home and I went back into my room. When I got to my room all of my devices were taken away. I didn’t even try to look for them. I said I could survive without them and now I had to prove it. 

The next week my dad and I had a conversation about it. I explained that I wasn’t in the right of mind and he explained how he had to schedule the walk, and that it was the only time that we could talk privately without my sibling's overhearing. I didn’t get my devices back for the next month but that was okay because I understood why. 

To this day, my dad and I love to talk about this moment. I still feel strongly about it, I feel I am justified in not wanting to talk with someone when I wasn’t prepared. But I also regret not trusting him to have a good reason. 

(P.S. My Grandma is fine! It’s been hard for her but she’s strong.)