we are on our way to the high school at 7godforsaken in the morning on a Sunday. I love these car rides, short as they are, because they're a chance to catch up with my oldest, a teenager hurtling towards adulthood, a ship literally passing me in the night. she tells me all about her day yesterday and she fills me in on her plans for today as she adjusts strands of hair in the mirror. it's a dress rehearsal for dance. festival is in a week. she's in 7 of 8 numbers and she's the unofficial TA of both the formal class and the out of timetable offerings. i tell her that her Grandma, my Mom, will probably die today. do you want me to message you right away during your rehearsal, or wait till you get home? i think you should wait. i agree. she needs to focus.
are you sad?
i have to think for a second. i guess i am, i say. then the tears come, against my will, against my better judgment. i hold back as best i can. i tell her that it all makes me miss my sister so much and then the tears just flood. i force myself back into control, and i suggest that we wish Grandma a peaceful passing, because even though She wasn't a good person, everyone deserves that. she agrees. we arrive and she lets me have a moment, forehead to forehead. sorry about my hair products, mom. you smell good, i say. i love you. call me any time. have the best day. i love you too, mom, she says as she's already walking into the school, focused, ready, happy. that's my girl.
i drive to the store for milk for cereal and comfort foods for me. the world is freaking fraught with grief triggers. i'm surrounded by foods that Ang and i liked, and the usual narration in my head, my constant conversation with her continues. look, cheese is on sale. oh man, they're out of peanut butter pretzels, which is what i basically came in for. croissaints and mangoes are on sale. i scoop those up for the girls. and an apple crumble pie for me.
i'm so clumsy and spacey.
i get to the car and a couple minutes pass; i realize i've been sitting there in the parking lot with my hand on my forehead, crying. enough of that. snap out of it.
i decide to drive to another store in hope of said pretzels. i walk in to the smell of fresh baking and ham and cheese croissants on the counter. i get one for me, this time. i wander the store like a lost puppy and i wonder if anyone can see how i feel. how desperate i am for the company of someone who is never coming, who will never again order for me at the counter like she did when we were kids, or tell me that i'm good enough and it's ok to be this way, like i need right now. i find frozen spinach for the other teen's smoothies and jackpot! 2 tubs of pretzels, too. Fleetwood Mac is playing overhead. how did they know? how do these people know exactly what i need?
in the 4 blocks home i'm somehow tailgated by an impatient taxi on my bumper and a giant pickup on his and i just want to fucking rage: CAN I JUST CATCH A TINY BIT OF A BREAK HERE??
i arrive home to a sleeping household and an attention seeking cat. i swear, he knows, too. i give him pets and snuggles and he keeps returning for more.
i'm sad.
i'm sad that i will never get the Mother that i needed. that, for a long time, i wanted. i'm sad that She'll get a peaceful death and mourned as a martyr and hero; while my sister died awake, aware, in pain, and longing for so much more.
i'm sad that i had to reparent myself and learn to parent my children without a guide book, except to Do Something Different.
i'm sad that with all the privilege and choice that She had, She decided it was too difficult to learn how to think about other people. to be a Mother.
i'm sad because somehow my tender, innocent heart was shamed and blackmailed and Her vicious one was uplifted as a paragon of virtue. people rallied to Her side, and never mine. She saw to that. it's a feature, not a bug.
i'm sad that i'm not sad about Her going, i'm relieved. because finally, Death will stop Her from hurting me, from taking what was precious to me, while She has for my lifetime refused to stop Herself.
i'm sad that other people have moms they write songs about.
i'm sad that my sister--my other half, my confidante, my soul keeper, and the only mother figure i really had, isn't here. i need her so much. i need to be someone's little girl for a minute, so i can catch my breath and then return to the role i've had since i was 4: in charge and taking care of everyone else. i just need to put that aside for a few minutes, and be safe somewhere. to hold this tender, exposed heart of mine with the gentleness it has always deserved, that has never come from my Mother,
and never will.
