Essay 735

The Narwhal Song

Think of your favorite superhero. They probably wear a cape or have the ability to soar

through the air. My hero did not didn’t have any supernatural abilities, except the ability to

change my life in a positive way. My hero was my brother, Chris. The three words that began

Chris’ battle were acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Throughout his battle with this mighty enemy,

he became the hero I looked up to. Although the villain (known as cancer) wore him down to the

bone, he never let on how drained he felt. He was constantly smiling and spreading joy to

everyone else.

This created for me an entirely new viewpoint on the world and life in general. Every

action he did for me impacted my life though the day he surprised me impacted me the most.

After battling cancer for over a year, Chris was at a desperate place. His body was no

longer making any new white blood cells; it was only replicating cancerous cells. When the

doctors saw this, they told my parents to inform everyone if they would like to see Chris, they

needed to come visit him now. They didn’t believe he would make it through the following

weekend. My younger brothers, sister, and I all traveled to the hospital with my grandparents.

We knew he would be in bad shape, but I don’t think I was prepared to see him in that condition.

He was the oldest. The strongest. How could he be this sick? After the weekend was over, my

sister and I talked our parents into letting us stay at the hospital with them and Chris. We stayed

for a week, which was one of the best weeks of my life. Although he couldn’t talk much, he

would talk a little here and there. He and I would converse about Star Wars or Legos (he was a

fanatic of Lego Star Wars objects). One morning, I was watching TV while my parents went to

breakfast, and my sister was still asleep. Out of nowhere came a question.

“Have you heard the Narwhal Song?”

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Surprised, I whipped my head around to see Chris lying inert in the hospital bed, yet

intensely staring at me. What is he talking about? What is the Narwhal Song? Seeing that I

couldn’t remember the song, I shook my head no.

“Narwhals, narwhals. Swimming in the ocean, causing a commotion because they are so

awesome,” he quietly sang. I couldn’t believe my ears. Just imagine a sixteen-year-old teenage

boy with cancer singing a silly song to his younger sister. It made me smile, hearing him sing. It

also brought a note of sadness, for I knew I was probably never going to hear him sing again.

This somber thought overpowered whatever joy had come from him singing this song for me. All

the same, at that moment I knew I wanted to be like Chris. I wanted to be able to say I brought

joy to everyone who knew me. That I put everyone else’s feelings ahead of my own. That I could

be somebody’s hero.

Chris passed away about a week afterwards. It was on a Friday we had off from school.

The day had started nicely. My brothers, my sister, and I had all woken up bright and early. We

were excited because we were supposed to be going to visit Chris later that day. While we were

busy still getting up and about, my grandma got a phone call. She went to her room to answer it

and emerged with tears streaming down her face. She insisted everything was fine but told us to

begin packing our bags quickly because we were leaving earlier than expected. We all listened

and did as we were told but at the back of our minds nagged the undeniable question. Was Chris

okay?

After packing everyone’s suitcase, we left the house on our journey to the hospital. On

our way there, I was being a normal teenager and checking my Facebook page. I saw a few

separate posts claiming Chris had died and heaven had gained an angel. I began to panic. Why

were people saying these things? Why would anyone say these lies? I asked my grandma what

Essay 735

these posts were about but after showing her, she brushed it off as misinformation. I wanted to

believe her but the doubt still nagged at the back of my mind. I messaged one of my good friends

who had created a post about it himself. I asked him where he had gotten this information and he

claimed he had gotten it from so and so’s post. I followed the chain down the gossip ladder until

I arrived at the original post. Although no names were used, I knew the post was about Chris. I

began crying. After a little bit longer, we had reached our destination.

As we walked into the hospital, we were greeted by both of our parents. This only

seemed to confirm my fear, for my parents would never leave my brother upstairs alone. We

quietly loaded into the elevator and made our way up to the fourth floor. We started off towards

his room yet my parents pulled us into the room next to his. As they told us the news, I broke

down. I was a puddle of tears by the time they finished their sentence. I’m glad I can say the next

part wasn’t a blur. I distinctly remember going to Chris’ room to see him. He only looked as if he

were asleep. Although many people would think this a traumatic sight, it was closure for me.

As much as I miss him, I still smile when I think of the Narwhal Song. As I think of this,

I begin to remember how kind, sweet, and joyful Chris always was. I remember to be kind. To

make someone smile. To say thank you. To put others before myself. Chris may not have gotten

many years on Earth, but he touched many lives in the sixteen years he was here. I only hope

people see me as I saw him. As someone to look up to. As someone they can come to. As

someone who shows everyone compassion. As someone they can count on to always be there.

Chris may not have fit the typical definition of superhero, but he definitely fit mine.