One thing about being here that really makes me unhappy is that I am about 20 hours of travelling away. News doesn't always travel quickly or efficiently. I got an email from my mother today, which is not unusual, but what was upsetting was it was not the best news regarding my Aunt Den. She has a health issue that has been ongoing since last week.
After reading the email, I immediately called AD, she sounds chipper, they're just playing a waiting game. Other than this mystery thing, she's in good health. I'm reluctant to say more, as I am not sure if her kids read this. If you guys are reading this--call your mom and don't tell her that you saw it here, ok? Or when you are in Kiawa and she talks about it, act suprised but don't rat me out. This is one of the few ways I have to cope.
So I was all wound up from hormones, drugs, and the doctors and from the phone call. I'm probaby making mountains out of molehills since nothing has really been determined, but all I could do was stand in the foyer and cry, which is stupid, because crying doesn't generally do anything except make my eyes red and my nose runny.
The odd thing was, if I had received the same news about my mother, I can say, without a doubt, that I would not have reacted with a big boo-hoo. But relationships between mothers and daughters are strange, to say the least. My mother has a living will. I am the designated puller of the plug if she's on life support. I asked her why me and she said because I have a mean streak wide enough to kick the plug out of the wall. =) Of course I would be upset if Mom was having problems, but I would be working out logistics and whatnot. There would be something to latch onto, a problem or problems to wrestle with, something to get angry about or occupied with. It's not like I'm a wuss. When I was 19, my best friend and the person I loved most in the world was slowly dying of cancer. It was like watching a slow-motion train wreck over and over, but I took care of her and her house and what I needed to, so it's not like I am a complete wimp, there's some iron will in there, and as such, I was completely suprised by this morning's outburst. The little logical "watcher" (you know, the little voice that remains rational during drunks or bad trips or car accidents or in whatever bad shit is going down) in the back of my brain was totally like "WTF?", which had to be a first. It usually knows what to do.
My brother said to me once, after seeing me handle my grandfather dropping dead in the garage, and my mother threatening to kill herself the Xmas after dad died and giving eulogies at both my father's and my grandmother's funerals, without crying or freaking out, that I had a certain ability to put away who I am and get on with the unpleasant things that have to be done. Bill said "It's like 'the sister you know is not here right now, I am this stone-cold stranger who is completely calm and unfazed and let's do this and if you can't do it, too, just get the fuck out of my way." Bill says it's the scariest thing he has ever seen me do and it frightens him on a very deep level.
After reading the email, I immediately called AD, she sounds chipper, they're just playing a waiting game. Other than this mystery thing, she's in good health. I'm reluctant to say more, as I am not sure if her kids read this. If you guys are reading this--call your mom and don't tell her that you saw it here, ok? Or when you are in Kiawa and she talks about it, act suprised but don't rat me out. This is one of the few ways I have to cope.
So I was all wound up from hormones, drugs, and the doctors and from the phone call. I'm probaby making mountains out of molehills since nothing has really been determined, but all I could do was stand in the foyer and cry, which is stupid, because crying doesn't generally do anything except make my eyes red and my nose runny.
The odd thing was, if I had received the same news about my mother, I can say, without a doubt, that I would not have reacted with a big boo-hoo. But relationships between mothers and daughters are strange, to say the least. My mother has a living will. I am the designated puller of the plug if she's on life support. I asked her why me and she said because I have a mean streak wide enough to kick the plug out of the wall. =) Of course I would be upset if Mom was having problems, but I would be working out logistics and whatnot. There would be something to latch onto, a problem or problems to wrestle with, something to get angry about or occupied with. It's not like I'm a wuss. When I was 19, my best friend and the person I loved most in the world was slowly dying of cancer. It was like watching a slow-motion train wreck over and over, but I took care of her and her house and what I needed to, so it's not like I am a complete wimp, there's some iron will in there, and as such, I was completely suprised by this morning's outburst. The little logical "watcher" (you know, the little voice that remains rational during drunks or bad trips or car accidents or in whatever bad shit is going down) in the back of my brain was totally like "WTF?", which had to be a first. It usually knows what to do.
My brother said to me once, after seeing me handle my grandfather dropping dead in the garage, and my mother threatening to kill herself the Xmas after dad died and giving eulogies at both my father's and my grandmother's funerals, without crying or freaking out, that I had a certain ability to put away who I am and get on with the unpleasant things that have to be done. Bill said "It's like 'the sister you know is not here right now, I am this stone-cold stranger who is completely calm and unfazed and let's do this and if you can't do it, too, just get the fuck out of my way." Bill says it's the scariest thing he has ever seen me do and it frightens him on a very deep level.
But that didn't happen, not this time. I stood in the foyer and cried. I'm not crying now but simply waiting, because that's all I can do from over here.
1 comment:
I find that I cry a lot too. And I can compartimenalize (sp?) just as well as you. AD is in my prayers.
Post a Comment