Lily Featherstone

Ms. Nochomovitz and Ms. Davidow

US Experience FIQWS 10115

September 23, 2024 

Sick Day

“I just left my job,” my dad said, his hands knotted tightly as if he were being held at gunpoint. My mom’s eyes darted between my sister and me, then back to my dad, who had turned his gaze toward his hands. I stared vacantly at the dark wood walls of the restaurant while my tiny hands mindlessly peeled apart the napkin in front of me. My mind went blank; I didn’t know what to say. My mom reassured us that everything would be fine and that we shouldn’t worry. Her eyes softened almost instinctively, as if she thought my sister and I would be freaking out. At nine years old, what worries could I possibly have? I couldn’t yet comprehend the severity of a parent losing their job. According to dad, he left his job at a real estate company because he couldn’t handle the work environment anymore. When I asked when he would get another job, he said he “didn’t know, but hopefully soon.”

I clenched my stomach. The chilly classroom felt like an oven. As I looked around to see if any of my classmates were as uncomfortable as I was, to my dismay, I seemed to be the only one. I hunched over my desk and wiped the back of my hand against my damp forehead. I dragged my hand down my warm, sweaty face and slouched hopelessly, waiting for someone to come get me. When the classroom phone rang, it felt like my prayers had been answered.

“Lily, you can go to the office; your dad is here to pick you up,” my teacher called out. I knew my dad worked in New Jersey, and I wondered why he had come all this way when mom was so close by. My dad had to commute at least an hour to get to me, coming from a completely different state, while my mom only had to walk ten blocks. I brushed it off and grabbed my things, practically running out of the classroom despite my sick, tired body wanting to drag me down. As I approached the main office, I saw my dad wearing a suit with his briefcase in hand.

That wasn’t the first time dad picked me or my sister up from school when we got sick, and it definitely wasn’t the last. Countless times, he had to drop everything to come get us, and he had to come such a long way. I always wondered why my mom never picked us up until one day I asked my dad. To him, it felt like mom was excused from leaving to pick us up because she was further along in her career as a registered nurse and manager. She would always tell dad that she was too busy drowning in paperwork or stuck in a meeting, but what she failed to realize was that dad was busy too. She ignored the fact that he was trying to advance in his own career, and having to leave work all the time to attend to us just wasn’t fair. Despite this, dad eventually began picking us up from school in normal clothes rather than a suit and a briefcase.

When I was younger, I didn’t have much perspective on what my dad leaving his job really meant, but as I’ve gotten older, I finally realize all that he had to sacrifice. My dad never got to advance in his career, always having to leave one job and get used to a new one because he had to call out so often. He wasn’t an unreliable guy; he told me he was always the employee who could be trusted to lock up or open the doors without worry. But having to leave to attend to my sister’s and my needs only made him seem less reliable. I think that’s why my mom always had him come get us rather than herself—because she had some sort of status at her job. My dad never got the opportunity to progress or become comfortable in a work environment—all because my mom didn’t want to compromise. It seemed like dad was always getting the short end of the stick.

I find that my dad can relate to Bessie. Although he isn’t the breadwinner in the typical sense, he still puts a lot of work into taking care of the family and being a provider, just like Bessie. All the doctor’s appointments he’s taken my sister and me to, all the cleaning, scheduling, and planning he does, and the countless sick days he’s been there for—these are just a few examples. But most importantly, he put his career aside to be present in our lives and take care of us. My dad has been there for my sister and me in more ways than my mom ever has, and I believe that’s because he chooses to be there for us and listen, even when he’s had a rough day. He listens and offers advice, and, similar to Bessie, my dad unfortunately doesn’t get the recognition he deserves.