One month. (I'm sure it's full of typos, I'm sorry)
I got through the first month without her here. I got through the sorting, and the phone calls, and the selling, and the hospitals, and the funeral... And I got through what I could handle of all the feelings and emotions I'm supposed to be enveloped in but really really don't want to have to succumb to... One month!
So many things happened. Holidays, celebrations, and just the sadness. And it just annoys me, and bothers me, and baffles the craziness into my mind. How on earth am I supposed to do things, just anything, without her strange form of guidance? I can't call her, or go to see her, or buy her anything. She can't walk me through my taxes, or find new and creative ways to sneak in some mentioning of birth control into our conversations. Or ask how Seth's asthma is, or set aside money for whenever I might need to go to the doctors.
I never realized how much I depended on her presence, even when I didn't like her, or what she was doing to herself. I always wanted her here. I always thought I'd die first, even though I'm healthy and young and in college, she'd still find a way to outlive me. But that would have hurt her so much... It's just so painful, and my throat hurts now, and my eyes are going blurry. Such of a nuisance, this feeling!
I keep thinking that I'm too strong for tears, or any of this sadness. That there isn't enough time in life to spend it crying, especially not now when there are still quite a few things that need to be done and paid for, and I need to keep my mind clear. And even though I hold up that little screen, knowing that if Mama had lost someone she would have toughed it out, like she did with her family as they died away so quickly and she never cried publicly, took care of business and moved on like it was just on a to do list, even though this is keeping me up, I also know that if it had been the other way around, she probably would have died right after me. And I mean suddenly.
I remember when I was younger, I lived with Mama... well, of course. But we went through everything in life together. Me and her. When she was at her strongest, and I was the top of the line child, and we were traveling and she was winning cases and working like a wild woman. And when my brother left for the military, and her brother died, and her dad died all at the same time... And then when we were alone, in Detroit, with no place to live. I was always dependent on her, and I hated it. I couldn't wait to be free, to be off in college, or in my own apartment somewhere, alone. Not having to be moved around every few weeks for years, with nothing in my life that I could control on my own. And people would tell me, people I looked up to would say that it got better, and that someday I could be happy away from her. Away from her illness. We were quite nearly dirt poor, but we managed, she managed to get us where we needed to be.
I just wish I had realized then how it would have been like for her, if I had left and went off. How it was like. The things I did to get away from her when I got the chance. That would take at least 5 more pages to explain...
I left her, once. In my mind, at the time, I didn't realize what it could have been like for her. My brother had custody of me, and we were forced out of Italy because she did something wild and crazy at NATO, literally. I think, somehow, she managed to get into a building... I don't know. Either way, back in the US. My brother had to go get something situated down in Indiana, and left me with Mama in Detroit for a few days. It was like old times. We didn't have any place to stay, or a car, or any belongings... So Mama found a payphone and called a friend up who agreed to let us stay with her for how ever long. We did, just stayed there, walked to the bus stopwhenever we needed to get to the store or to see someone while we were in town. We were expecting to be in Detroit for a few days, while my brother got things figured out with his wife and daughter in Indiana (they took a detour) before we would fly to Georgia to move back in to his house. But plans changed, and I had to choose, actively make the choice to leave her.
We were at her friends house when I got the idea that I wanted to make greens. Just randomly, wanted to make collard greens. So she told me that she'd go walk to the store and pick up the stuff, and we'd get to it. But she made me promise that I'd be there when she got back. I promised, I really didn't know where else I'd go. But the second she stepped outside the phone rang, and my brother called to tell me that he would be there to get me, just me, and that we'd be leaving. He'd come, and distract Mama's friend while I got my few things together and got in the car. It was such of a conspiracy, but I didn't know what it meant. I just did what he said. Forgot about Mama who was down at the corner. And before I knew it, I was clear across town with the next ticket to ATL.
What she must have felt, when she got back and I wasn't there. It had to have been in the span of 10 mins. The lady friend of her's didn't realize, she was old and was really into watching her novelas. But I was just gone, no note, no trace that I had been with her. She was probably so angry, and so abandoned. She probably had had hope that my brother had just left us be in Detroit and she could spend another HOW many years trying to get back on her feet while bouncing us around to her friends houses, whilst having no job or income or way of providing for me. But I would be hers again, and her independence wouldn't have been threatened anymore. She probably had so much hope. And me suggesting to make those greens had probably been so much like old times, before she got sick when everyone died. Up until then I had just... disliked her immensely, for putting me through so much just so she could do her thing and drag me with her. I just treated her so unkindly, ignored her, didn't back talk, but certain didn't engage her. I was intent on going back with my brother, back to some sanity and support. But that was like an olive branch out of years and years of cold shoulders. And for it, and me, to have disappeared in the time it took her to walk to the corner store and back?
And it's like, the last week of her life, she wasn't there. Those last few months even. I could even say the years. She didn't have any drive to do anything, not take care of herself, or take her meds, or see the Sun every couple months. She didn't ever leave, not for my graduation, or confirmation. She came for my wedding, which just made me so happy, but she was gone nearly immediately, she was so afraid of someone seeing her. But when she got the bad, bad sickness, not just from the depression, and the malnutrition, but the diseases, it was like she wasn't even there. And it makes me so sad to know that even though I hoped, since May when I found her, that I could get her back, she was already gone. And I didn't even realize it. It was like, she was a charmed statue, or some sort of ennervated corpse. She had no life left, no will, and no cares. And with the sickness, all she could cling to was being left alone, in her apartment, and not forced into a hospital or nursing home, or being taken by APS. Because she would have been. The Wednesday before she died I got a call from APS telling me about how they would have to appoint a guardian and that. But she cling to her independence, even when she was stroke addled and couldn't speak. And it hurt so much to see her fight us, it was like, she was trying to throw herself at us to keep us from touching her, but her weight was so miniscule, and her strength was like nothing at all. And that was all she had left.
And it's so annoying, and I hate that I didn't realize that she wasn't there anymore. That when she woke up in hospital, and didn't have any memory of anything that had happened, and couldn't move, and couldn't eat, and couldn't really speak. I had fooled myself into thinking that I'd get her through this, and I could just pay for more aides to come, or get her into a home. I really didn't want to have to deal with her apartment, paying the rent while she was away, or getting her stuff into storage, but I would... I didn't realize that I'd end up having to plan on getting rid of it all the next day.
And like, the last things I did with her. I got her cranberry juice, and I showed her my new iPhone... even though she didn't know what it really was... and I sat there, playing on it while her doctor drove up from his private practice to talk to me. And when he left, I sat some more. And she just kept looking over at me, every few seconds. And I asked her if she knew something I didn't, and she paused for a long while, and I thought she hadn't heard me, and she just said "no"... and I asked her how she was feeling, because she was smiling, and she just said "content"... and then for some reason I thought it would be appropriate to point out that there wasn't much to be content about, and that we'd have to work out having more aides or getting her into a home, or getting her some more help. And she just sighed, attempted to shrug, and looked up at the tv. And shortly after, as we were about to leave, I went to her on her side of the bed, wanted to hug her but couldn't get past the wires and... her arms and hands were up to her face because of the stiffness, so I started touching her hair... I wish she had said something. She was looking right at me, like she had so much to say, but either couldn't manage because up until that point she could only say single syllable words, or she just didn't know what could be said... And her eyes were just so wide, like she was taking it in while she could. And I was just touching her hair, and her face, and saying that I'd be back, and that I loved her. That I'd be right back... And 24 hours later I still wasn't back because of the storm outside, and I couldn't get back up to her hospital. And I called them to say I'd be there first thing in the morning, and they said she was eating sandwiches, and had complained about the eggs.
My nose is running, and my eyes hurt. I saw this woman today that almost made me sick with sadness, at work. She looked like she had one of the diseases Mama had, that made her look like a walking zombie. She was lively underneath, like in her eyes, but frail looking, and her skin was dark, greyed terribly. It was Addison's. And I just couldn't look at her. I took her money, tried to make conversation, but was so on edge I would have just had a breakdown in the cafe. Just out of my mind.