copyright 2017 Chris Smith All rights reserved.
"There is such a thing as 'normal'. I know because I've heard stories. I ain't it though."
I slept! HOLY SHIT!
It was the first night in weeks and weeks I wasn't up at 4 a.m. with my eye driving me nuts with its constant watering. I had finally turned the corner! My eye was healing!
But I wondered how everyone else in the house fared?
I climbed downstairs and peeked my head in the bathroom.
"So, how was it?"
"I was up most of the night. Mom was really restless," Dad said.
"I'm sorry Dad," I said.
"Yeah, me too," Dad said.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm okay. And no I don't want to talk about it," Dad said.
He didn't want to talk about the anger. He didn't want me to ask the questions. He didn't want to ""open up". He wanted to pretend it wasn't there. He wanted to pretend he didn't want to choke her out for not fighting harder. He didn't want to talk about how upset with himself he was about everything he couldn't change. He didn't want to give a voice to all the wrong turns and the bad choices he'd made in his marriage. He didn't want to speak aloud all the ways he'd failed her as a husband.
But hindsight was always 20/20?
I didn't know if most people had these revelations right before the death of a loved one. But I did. Or I was. The weight of it was too much to bear for my broken heart.
Bro: Car broke down. Not sure what happened.
Me: That sucks.
Bro: Yeah. Will let you know.
Dad left for a few hours to do more errands. While he was gone they delivered a hospital bed frame to go with Mom's hospital mattress. We had to scooch their mattress over to make room for it.
Mom's bed was officially electric. It could be moved up and down, either in unison at the head and legs, or individually. She would be more comfortable, like for sitting up and drinking her juices.
It was the first time, in all their decades of marriage, they wouldn't be in the same bed. The closest Dad would be, was next to her. Now he'd have to reach up to touch her.
I finished the rest of the day with chores. But Mom was still in pain and I was at a loss what to do. Dad wasn't home yet.
Me to Dad: Mom's been complaining of pain 2x today so far. :( I did a massage and she's got a hot pack on her tummy now.
The pain was killing me. Not just my own. But watching her in pain because I couldn't fix it. I couldn't heal it. I couldn't make it all better. What a worthless human being I turned out to be. I couldn't save my own Mom.
Juice Day 89
3 leaves collard greens
2 leaves red leaf lettuce
6 beet green leaves
2 ½ large carrots
2 stalks of celery
1 ½ carrots
½ cup pineapple
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A HARD RUN INTO HELL Book 4 (EDITING) is the juice worth the squeeze seriesNon-Fiction
I was standing in Hell, burning. I looked over to see my Dad, standing right next to me. He was burning too. We had brought my Mom home from the hospital and care facility, after being diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer and decided not to do chemo, ag...