(no subject)
at 6:30 tomorrow morning i will be driving behind the car carrying my mother to the hospital. her surgery is scheduled for ten o'clock. it will take three hours, and she will be there for two days and two nights.
you know? i'm not really scared of her illness anymore. i mean, a little bit, of course, because they won't know until they're inside of her neck whether or not it's anaplastic, spread to the lymph nodes, all of that. but. i think i'm more frustrated right now, maybe i'm focusing on so many other things because i can, because it's easier to think of. sleepless nights and kanoodley mornings, and movie nights and power pizzas. cooking with soumil and lounging in my backyard, the world smelling like cigarettes and ocean and laundry and compost, which is so much more pleasant than it sounds. because it is my home. my mother. she is sick and what can i do. what i'm really afraid of, right now, really truly afraid of, is feeling stuck here at home. not like the brave person who has crafted her own life out of kite string and paper and ink, but like the sad girl who doesn't speak her mind and goes through empty routines feeling powerless. how selfish. but it's true, it's true. maybe i am scared for all of us. maybe it is easier to be scared for myself. i can't tell the difference anymore. because it's all in my stupid, stupid bones. i wish this did not feel so far. i wish we were closer. proximityintimacyhell.
how much am i allowed to ask for?
you know? i'm not really scared of her illness anymore. i mean, a little bit, of course, because they won't know until they're inside of her neck whether or not it's anaplastic, spread to the lymph nodes, all of that. but. i think i'm more frustrated right now, maybe i'm focusing on so many other things because i can, because it's easier to think of. sleepless nights and kanoodley mornings, and movie nights and power pizzas. cooking with soumil and lounging in my backyard, the world smelling like cigarettes and ocean and laundry and compost, which is so much more pleasant than it sounds. because it is my home. my mother. she is sick and what can i do. what i'm really afraid of, right now, really truly afraid of, is feeling stuck here at home. not like the brave person who has crafted her own life out of kite string and paper and ink, but like the sad girl who doesn't speak her mind and goes through empty routines feeling powerless. how selfish. but it's true, it's true. maybe i am scared for all of us. maybe it is easier to be scared for myself. i can't tell the difference anymore. because it's all in my stupid, stupid bones. i wish this did not feel so far. i wish we were closer. proximityintimacyhell.
how much am i allowed to ask for?