I am an asshole. I really am – no, I am. I was supposed to call my Dad yesterday, see how he was, offer to bring Emily down to his house – he wasn’t allowed to drive due to a small procedure he had on his shoulder the prior day. And I didn’t. not once did I pick up the phone. I thought about it, and I thought about driving to his house instead of going to the bookstore with Emily (we never made it anyway since she fell asleep) but I didn’t actually do it. I did nothing but focus on myself and my kid yesterday. And I feel pretty shitty for doing that. But I did it so that I wouldn’t be a blubbering mess all day, or all weekend, or all month – I wanted to start off the month and the year the right way; meaning, not sad because of my mom.
Today, its been one year since my mom was admitted into the hospital. I’m work, just like I was that day. My dad has dialysis, which he’s thankful for because it’ll get him out of the house and it means that he’ll spend most of his day probably sleeping once he gets home. I can’t believe it’s been a year since that day of meeting them at the ER, seeing how out of breath she was trying to go from the car to the ER waiting room – they got her a wheelchair as soon as they saw she had such difficulty. It snowed today a year ago, it had been snowing already – I remember the slush and ice in the parking lot, and the way it snowed that night. The snow started around7pm, and I left her room around 7:30 or so…my sister stayed until around 8 or 8:30. The roads were horrible and I just wanted to get home. I kissed my mom, told her I would see her in the morning, said I love you, said something snarky to my sister, and left. I really thought we would talk the next day, but we didn’t. She was sedated the next day, to keep her calm after having to be intubated.
Time is a cruel mistress indeed. I feel like it happened yesterday, but it also happened so very long ago – so long ago that it doesn’t feel real (it still doesn’t, which I can’t explain). A year went so fast – and so much has happened in a year. Many losses, some gains, amazing surprises, happy times, sad times, all of it came and went so fast. Just like she did, really. I wish I knew then what I know now, there are so many things I would have done differently or at least had tried to do differently. But I can’t change the past, no matter how much I want to. Today, on the 2nd day of this new year, I am hopeful that the coming weeks and months will be easier, even if its just slightly. And I am hopeful that I can get some semblance of myself back – this past year has sucked up a lot of who I used to be and, although I know I will never be the same again, I want to try to be the person I was before all of this happened. I want to have more happy than sad days, I want to have less fights with my daughter and boyfriend, I want to be positive about life – some aspect of life – instead of just being sad. Sad sucks, and I’m so very tired of it.
I am also hopeful that, although I don’t want to forget, the memories will fade just a bit. Right now, I glanced at my clock and remembered what I was doing right now a year ago – I was sitting in a chair, next to her ER bed, listening to her complain about how long she had been there and how much longer would it be before she had a room and she even threatened to leave at one point. Yeah, that wouldn’t have happened but still, threatened she did. I remember how lively she was that day, almost demanding something to eat, complaining non-stop at one point. And I remember her voice when she was talking to the oncologist who came to see her, who would have treated her had her body not shut down so quickly. He was lovely; a wonderfully kind man who treated her with such compassion, it was beautiful to watch, honestly. And I can remember him asking what she was afraid of. Her response was “that I’m sick, that its cancer. I can’t be sick, I have a granddaughter.” Those words will stay with me forever, as will the look in her eyes when she said them.
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