Just breathe

Kawser

They all told me she was getting better. She had patched up with Ulfat, who would come to meet her every day after school and spend the rest of the day with her. They would do homework, sometimes watch a movie or a drama, talk about school, and spend quality time together.

She was more welcoming to visitors, and she had her smile back. She should have been relieved to see all these signs, but the counselor's words seemed to echo in her mind.

"Sometimes people try to hide their true feelings behind the fake smile plastered on their face."

Maybe if she had heard this before all this happened, she would have wavered, saying her children were open to her and wouldn't hide their feelings, at least not in front of her. But she was no longer sure about it. Would they share everything? She still wasn't sure what had happened between Hafsa and Ulfat. The only thing Hafsa had told her was that Ulfat had betrayed her.

"Beta, there has to be some misunderstanding."

"She was the only one who knew about my cancer."

"Well, maybe it slipped out of her tongue. She would never do that. And besides, you probably wouldn't have been able to keep that secret for very long."

"You don't know anything," she replied, annoyed. "You won't get it."

The one thing I really don't get is why today's teenagers think they are alone and adults can't understand them. Yes, these times are different. Yes, there is a generation gap. But we have been through the teenage years too. We have seen more of the world. How can they say we won't understand without even trying to explain?

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I knocked on the door. My husband gave me a pat on my back. He was nervous about this almost as much as I was, but he managed to give me a feeble smile.

Maybe I was just overthinking. She had probably actually gotten better.

"Come in."

Taking a deep breath I pushed the door and walked in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ilyas I have been waiting for you. please have a seat. "

"WalikumAsalam doctor, We hope all is well," my husband replied.

She looked up and smiled.

"Alhumdullilah, all is well," she said. "Hafsa has gotten a lot better now and is ready to go back home."

"Are you sure?" I asked, twisting my ring around my ring finger. "What if she is just faking it? What if she is hiding her feelings from us? What if she gets into depression again?"

"Shh, Mrs. Ilyas," she whispered, trying to soothe me. "She will be fine. You people have raised a wonderful child. Dealing with cancer is hard. And then, given the age she is, there are a lot of other stressors too.

We can't know how she is actually feeling. Yes. and neither we nor she can tell whether or not she is lying, but we need to show we trust her. And be sure to keep her trust too. Observe her silently. Look for queues that indicate she might be relapsing. Just make sure to let her know that she is not alone and she can share how she is feeling with you, your husband, or even a friend."

"What kind of queues?" my husband asked.

"Well, people with depression tend to lack motivation and interest in things they normally enjoy doing. Their sleeping and eating patterns change. Things like that."

"But she doesn't share things with us," I confessed. "She used to be very close with her cousin, but for some reason things aren't going well between them."

"Well, you might want to meet your daughter now," she said, beaming. "You might get a little surprise there."