The disturbing Goodbye- Part 3

My mom had been in & out of hospitals for 5 years. Mainly for infection or pneumonia. Twice the hospital told us she would be dead within 12 hours. That was a surreal situation when I had to dress from head to toe in sterile dressings just to be by mom's side. Then trying to figure out how to say goodbye to her...because you know...she was going to croak some time in the night. Very strange, very stressful. But she always deified her Dr.s orders to die...which I appreciated.

That warm July night was no different then the other casual visits we had with her. Although this time the cancer had seeped into her bone. Another infection, another weekend in the hospital. (my mom timed her hospital stays very well. She would push herself through the week, then go in on the weekend. She didn't want to miss work....hows that for commitment?!)

I remember watching Mom eat her dinner on a tray. She always gave me her jello or pudding....which made me feel guilty. "Ma...you're dying of cancer...eat the damn pudding" She knew how much I liked it...even though I tried desperately to convince her I didn't. Staring at your mothers pudding, salivating doesn't help the lie that you hate pudding.

After her dinner we settled in to watch some movie with Charles Bronson...who my Mom adored. I never got the attraction....the dude had a mustache. But it made us feel better when mom was up & able to drool over Mr. Bronson & his very violent films. I remember sitting on the left side of her bed. My hair was snarled from driving with the windows open. I was self conscious but too embarrassed to ask my mom for a hair brush. My dad was just as disturbed at the rat nest on my head as I was. Mom just beamed & told him "aww let her have her hair the way she wants it. All the kids have the messy look." I looked at her like she was crazy. Again, did she not know me?! I was grateful for her beaming at me, as she tried to rearrange the mop behind my ears. I knew the foof annoyed her, but thought it was sweet that she was allowing me to "grow up".........then I was disturbed. Wait.....mom is not annoyed by my friz factory? That's odd.

8pm. rolled around & it was time to go. We had spent the last half an hour laughing hysterically at my dad's impression of his rival...Mr. Bronson. We got up to leave with lungs that hurt from laughing & gave mom a big hug. Hug, Hug, pat, pat.

"Love you mom"

"Love you too"

"Goodnight Gail, Good night Mom."

"Goodbye"





Goodbye






Goodbye....my mother never uttered those words. It was always Goodnight...never Goodbye. She said it right as my Dad & I walked through her door & turned right towards the elevator. The moment she said it Dad & I paused...then resumed walking. Maybe I was the only one who thought her Goodbye was weird. We stepped into the elevator....and as the door closed my Dad looks at me. "She said Goodbye."

"Yeah...should we go back?"

"I'm sure it was nothing. She'll be fine......."

The warm feeling in my lungs from all the laughing dispersed. I was left feeling hollow & fidgety.

The morning was bright & warm. Dad was off to work & I was home alone. 9:30am the phone rings.......& I know. The women on the other end of the line is calm but firm. "You & your father need to get to the hospital right now."

"What's wrong w/ mom?"

"You need to come now"

"What's WRONG with MOM?!" Now I'm mad for being treated like a child.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you over the phone, you just need to come."

"That's crap & you know it. My Dad is working I may not be able to reach him for another 8 hours & you won't tell me she's dead?"

"You need to come now."

By some miracle I was able to reach my dad on his cell (you know the kind...big, bulky & connected w/ a curly wire to the battery, receiver holder thingy. The "cell phone" stayed in my Dad's truck cuz you know....it was a MONSTER.)

I blink & my Dad is home. Speeding to get to the hospital my mind is on 1 thing....I will miss the Wisconsin Dells camping trip with my girlfriends. Crap...now I need to tell then my moms dead...that sucks.

I blink again Dad & I are standing in the elevator....how did I get here?

The door slides open.

The next week will happen in slow motion. From this new beginning I see every face, every event clearly. I want it to blink by, but I am tortured by the slow motion show in front of my eyes.