Seeing Through the Cracks

Hope dragged her feet against the pavement, each step heavier than the last, as she made her way home to the second-floor apartment she shared with her dad. The evening light cast a golden hue on the streets and an orange-pink glow across the sky. The stars had begun to peek out, and the streetlights flickered to life as she walked. Her back wept from hours bent over hospital beds and her scrubs, crumpled and stained from the long shift, hung from her body.

Bold fonts shaped into neon words lit the top of doors and stood out from the graffiti patterns, bursting with life and energy across old buildings, defying the drabness of the street. The smell of seafood, fried chicken, smoked meats, and cinnamon played a game of tag with her nose as she walked.

The weight of the world seemed to rest on her shoulders, and she couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom that loomed over her since her father’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis. She did all she could to take care of him and keep up with bills, but it felt like a losing battle already.

Hope pulled her purse tight as she rounded the corner. The landscape transformed into the dimly lit alley of her run-down apartment complex. Dumpsters full of week-old trash and more lined the walls. Her steps faltered as a flash of light caught her eye. She squinted and saw something shiny in a small puddle left over from the previous night’s rain. Covering her nose, she blocked out the rancid odors of rotting trash permeating the air and stepped to get a better look at the object.

On the ground lay her father’s glasses, the lenses cracked, and frames deformed. “Dammit!” A wave of panic washed over her like an icy cold shower. Her body tensed, and her heart raced. She could feel the tightness in her chest, and her breath quickened. Hands shaking, she stooped and lifted the glasses, trying to spare them from any further damage, and placed them in her pocket.

Hope paused a moment, hands on her knees, and fought to slow her breathing as her mind reeled. He wasn’t supposed to be outside. Where could he have gone? She needed to think. The alley stretched out before her and as much as she wanted to flee, an overwhelming sense of dread kept her locked in place.

She closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and took a deep breath, fighting against the conflicting emotions threatening to tear her apart. She figured the best place to start was the apartment, but when she opened her eyes again, her veins ran cold, and panic slammed into her chest. Her father was on the roof of the building, his fragile body swaying in the wind.

Hope raced to the single door that led into her building and fought to get the key in the lock. Dread pooled in her stomach like a lake of icy water, cold and piercing. She felt a chill extend through her body, and her throat became tight as fear coiled around her. Once open, she darted up the stairs two at a time. Gasping for air as she reached the top of the stairs and charged through the door onto the roof, then froze — her father stood on the ledge, peering down at the street below.

“Dad!” her voice trembled.

He turned around, confusion in his eyes. “Who are you?”

Hope’s heart sank as she stepped closer. Scared of her father’s reaction, not knowing if he would accept or reject her, she raised her hands to reassure him. “I’m Hope — your daughter.”

“My daughter?” His voice faltered, and then he lifted his head, recognition flickering across his face. “Hope?”

Hope swallowed hard, and tears filled her eyes. She ran towards him, her mind gripped by fear. “What are you doing up here?”

He turned around and looked at her with a blank stare. “I just wanted to get some fresh air.” His voice, muffled by the wind, was barely audible.

She reached for his arm and pulled him away from the ledge. “You promised—” her voice shook, and she tried again, “you promised me you wouldn’t do this again.”

He peered down at her, his eyes wide and sorrowful as he came back to reality. His shoulders sagged. “I know… I’m sorry.”

She hugged him, and his body shook with sobs. “I can’t lose you.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He clung to her, his grip tight and desperate. “I won’t do it again.”

The all-too-familiar ache settled in Hope’s chest and felt like a crushing weight. Two months had passed since the diagnosis of her father’s Alzheimer’s disease, and it seemed to progress much faster than she expected.

She took a step back and looked at her father — his features drawn, tired lines etching his face, his eyes distant and lost within himself. Her heart ached for the man he used to be — strong, confident, and full of life. Now he was so fragile, confused and scared.

Hope sighed, tears burning her eyes. They only had each other since her mom passed and she cared for him the best she could — but it was no longer enough. It was time to get professional help.

“Dad,” her voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t do this alone anymore.”

His eyes glistened as he grasped onto her shoulder like a lifeline. “I understand. I’m truly sorry.”

Hope inhaled and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “Come on,” she gripped his hand tight and led him further away from the ledge, “let’s go home.” Together, they made their way down the stairs. Relief washed over her as they walked into the apartment.

That night, as Hope tucked her father into bed, she couldn’t contain her emotions — grief and hope warred inside her. She kissed him on the forehead and made a silent promise to do everything in her power to make sure he stayed safe and happy despite his illness. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was ready to face the challenges ahead.