Page 4 of The Scientist

When we reached the pre-op area, the nurse showed my mom the bathroom to change in. She emerged with a look of worry on her face.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her eyes were wide. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I’m just feeling like my end is in sight.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a bit panicked. “Everything’s going to be fine, Mom.”

She turned around in her hospital gown and burst into laughter. I finally got the joke with her rear end showing through the split in the back of the gown. Tears were rolling down her face from laughing so hard. I smiled but refused to laugh at such a corny joke.

“I thought dads only made terrible jokes like that.”

“Well, that just goes to show you, your mom can do it all,” she said, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“Except for getting off an escalator without tripping and falling when it gets to the bottom.”

“That was one time.”

“Twice!”

Dr. Fridman walked in, interrupting our argument. We’d flown out to meet him a few weeks ago and had our consultation for the mastectomy.

“Ms. Olivier, you’re going to be first up on the schedule this morning. Are you ready?”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed, and we both sobered up quickly.

She nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

I took her hand in mine and held it more to comfort myself rather than her.

“It’s a fairly straightforward procedure on my end. As we discussed before, I’m going to be removing all the breast tissue and possibly some lymph nodes. Dr. Hildenbom will take over after to perform the reconstruction. You can expect to be in surgery for around four to six hours total.” He said the last part while looking at me. I’m sure it was to let me know it would take a while.

“Any questions?” he asked, and we both shook our heads. “Alright, I’ll see you in there.”

He exited the room, and we both looked at each other, no longer able to put on our brave faces.

I hugged her tightly and whispered, “It’s going to be fine, Mom. You’ve got this.”

She pulled away, reaching out to wipe the tears frommyeyes.

“I know that,” she said with a gentle smile. “You can’t kill bad grass.” She winked at me, and I forced a smile on my face.

Twenty minutes later, we waved goodbye as they rolled her to the back, and I spent the next seven hours pacing back and forth in the lobby, unable to stomach even a bite of food.

I hadn’t felt my father's absence so profoundly since his passing as I did in this moment. He and my mom had the same morbid sense of humor, and I knew he would have known theexact thing to say to ease the tension and make me feel like everything was going to be okay.

My father and I were different in so many ways, but what we did have in common was our unwavering love and devotion to the same three things in life: New York, music, and my mom.

His very first love was New York—the city that swept him off his feet in a whirlwind romance of uncharted dreams and endless possibilities. He would often say there was no other place in the world that you could go out at any hour, day or night, and never have to be alone.

I remember him telling me once that music was his best friend. It was a concept I didn't understand until much later in life, but now I understood perfectly what he meant. Music's the friend who knows your history, your dreams, and your fears—it never judges and is always ready to meet you wherever you are in life. Music knows all your soul's secrets and somehow, reflects them back to you in perfect harmony.

His love for my mom was an all-consuming type. Even as a young child, I could see their connection was deep and the love was unconditional. He once told me their souls would find each other in every lifetime, and I grew to appreciate its rarity. I knew I would settle for nothing less.

I was getting lost in the memories of my father whenDr. Fridman and Dr. Hildenbom finally emerged together from the OR area, and I practically tripped running over to them.

“Everything went great. Your mom is in recovery and will probably be there for a few hours. You’ll be able to see her once they get her up to the room.”

I breathed out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you both so much.”

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