cross-posted at orange

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The day of. Going home. She’s there when I walk in, the oven door open. She’s bent over the big ball of a turkey there.

I have chocolate covered strawberries and think she will love this surprise. But she isn’t in the mood for them. Are you alright, I ask her. Suddenly, I take a good look. She looks like she’s lathered herself in stuff that makes you tan. But it doesn’t look quite right.

She tells me that she’s had some kind of strange flu for the last few days. Or maybe it was food poisoning. She’s not sure. She went to the doctor. He said it was the flu. We have Thanksgiving, but she’s tired and not herself.

Before I leave the next morning, we spend some time alone over a cup of coffee. Just chatting. Mother and daughter. When I leave, I grab her. Not just hug her.  But grab her and hold her. Then I leave.

I call when I get home and she says she’ll go back to the doctor. Okay. That makes me feel better.

I take Monday off. Get up and make coffee, put on music. Starting to enjoy the morning. Coffee done, so I call my mother to have a morning coffee chat. She picks up the phone and says she’s gotta go… my sister and the baby are waiting for her. They’re going to the mall. She hangs up and I don’t even know why, but my hand reaches out. She’s gone. I can’t explain my unease.

I start to notice the strangest pain on the left side of my neck. Like I pulled something. I don’t know where this is coming from. Then the phone rings. I don’t answer it because I figure it’s work and they might ask me for something or to come in. I’m not going into work today. The phone rings all day. I finally pick it up at around 2 ish, figuring it’s too late to go to work.

It was my stepmother. Your mother had a heart attack. Bam. She’s in a coma. Crack. They didn’t have my husband’s work number. I call him.  He comes home. I get in the car. We drive the two hours. Silent. It was safe there in that car because as far as I knew, my mother was alive and awake from her coma. I really expected that. When I got there.

She never woke up. And died the following Sunday. Funniest thing was walking into the hospital and there were signs every where: KNOW THE SIGNS OF A PERSON HAVING A HEART ATTACK. Yeah. I guess. If you’re a man. They know the signs.

Alot happened between my seeing her on a respirator that very first moment I walked into the hospital and not being able to see her body after she died.

But is all comes back to love. I’m thankful for that. The simple act of her rubbing my forehead and liking the little bit of roughness on the back of her fingers. I’m thankful for having somebody I could love like I love her… uncomplicated, there, free, full. I’m thankful for her laughter and her shyness and her strength. I’m thankful for the ways in which she surprised me and humbled me. I’m thankful to have somebody love me and I never ever needed instructions for my relationship with her.

Before we left for the memorial, we were sitting in my sister’s living room. She looked at my dad and said, you know dad, i always thought you’d go first. Our mouths fell open and my poor father didn’t know what to say. Then the laughter started and we all reached for each other cause it’s true… laughter can so easily turn to tears.

I love you mommy. I miss you. And for christ’s sake, give me a call, would ya? I really need to talk to you.

love… pf8

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