grace
Written by patty on February 2nd, 2009Whirs and tubes and beeping machines she hated. IV drips.
This is not how I want to remember my mother. Let’s go back…
The ER. Call the priest. Get him here. It’s time for him to pray. It’s time for me to pray.
No. Go back.
My husband calls, telling me to come because she was having so much trouble breathing. I get to the house. Convincing her to go to the ER, I see fear in her eyes. Helping her to the car because she refused the ambulance. Mom, breathe. Slow it down mom. Breathe.
No. Go back.
A call the morning before, telling her I left dinner on the front porch while she was sleeping, and it’s chicken paprikash. Through the labored breathing, clear delight in her voice. “Oh, I love your chicken paprikash.”
It’s not even been a week since the end began. And everything is different now.
My mind is addled. I forget what I’m doing, unable to finish a thought or a task. I miss her so much.
I can’t write. I chop the ice in my driveway, looking for peace. I’ll swim this week and try to clear my mind. I don’t know when it will come. But it has to. Even now I write reluctantly. But I have to. I have to find the perfect words.
I’m eulogizing her on Saturday.
Go back.
A trip up the Merritt with precious cargo in the back seat. Lovingly, my mom and I take it out of the car and into the house. The silk is beautiful and so strong, miraculously close to intact. Yes, I can do it, the woman tells us. What color was it originally? It will be beautiful again. This time, a beautiful ivory.
The warm November sleeves become caps on my broad shoulders, a nod to the oppressive July heat. The beautiful button-back becomes a deep V. With a wider back and ribcage, I am seven inches taller than my mom. Thanks to the acres of crinolines she wore so many years before, on my taller frame it’s long enough to graze the floorboards on the beach-side deck where I’ll marry the great love of my life.
I take out my wedding pictures the day after she died. We rejected this picture, my mother and I. We didn’t want it in the wedding album. It’s the only one of just the two of us together that day.
I’m wearing our dress. Our faces are together, tilted, a bit shiny from the oppressive heat. We’re smiling widely. I can’t remember why we didn’t like it.
It’s the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen.
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okay, make me cry! I am, I am!
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Be at peace Wingdangdoo!
Whitemist’s last blog post: A Sunday Morning
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I’m so sorry, Patty. You’re in my thoughts…
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Swim through your thoughts, not away from them or around them. Use them as a blanket to comfort (as you have with secrets) to enjoy the tomorrows. I love you- Crystal
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Very sorry for your loss, P.
always home and uncool’s last blog post: Run for Someone’s Life
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Sorry you’re dealing with this…
foradifferentkindofgirl (fadkog)’s last blog post: things i learned while watching the super bowl, which, truth be told, i didn’t care about. at all.*
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Oh. I’m so very very sorry. Just breathe and try to take some peace in your memories. She loves you.
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so sad, so touching…
Swim through it Patty, you’re so strong.
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Oh, no. I am so sorry. {{hugs}}
CT Mom’s last blog post: Cabin fever
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oh patty!
ms picket to you’s last blog post: On Money
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Patty. Been missing you around Ladies Night. Thinking about you lately, and now I know why.
Losing my mom? Most devastating thing ever. I feel it. I know.
I’m praying.
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Joey, Cheryl, Beth, Kevin, Rick, FM, Diana, Darcy, Beth, thanks so much for your love & kindness.
patty’s last blog post: october 1966