Thoughts About Home
On July 3rd, I heard from one of my sisters that my mom landed in the hospital again-- nothing new, time for another round of pancreatitis and a week of morphine-induced sobriety before she's let out only to begin drinking again within the week. I didn't hear anything more about it.
Then on the 20th I checked my email after returning from a Volga cruise and saw that my father sent me a message on the 18th, letting me know that this time, my mother had gotten rapidly worse and was now in ICU on a ventilator and feeding tube. And that's when I started seriously considering what my response would be if she finally passed away while I was in Russia. It didn't take me very long to decide that I probably wouldn't fly back for her funeral.
A few days later my father sent an update, that my mother was stable and showing very small improvements. And the only thing I felt was a small spark of disappointment. Because all this means is that we're simply going to end up playing this game again. We already know how it's going to end, and frankly I'm getting tired of playing. (Yes, technically there is always that chance that finally she'll recover from being an alcoholic. It has been too many years for me to even consider that a possibility when reflecting on the situation.)
Another email last week informed me that she's off the ventilator and feeding tube, and can talk very quietly. My father added that I needn't worry, this doesn't change the fact that they're divorcing. Good, because if it had, I would've had a lot of things to say about that.
EDIT: Apparently she's now out of ICU and doing better. I just returned from Russia and my father suggested I visit her. I told him that was not even a possibility until I've had a good night's sleep
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