copyright 2017 Chris Smith All rights reserved.
"Despite all the pain
all the hurtful things spoken
Somehow we'd made it through Christmas together under one roof with one bathroom. It was almost like old times again. Minus the wheels.
My Brother left late morning to go back home. It wasn't until he was gone that I realized it had not been a relaxing Holiday for me at all. I was the farthest thing from being at peace. But at least the eye was healing.
The three of us were back into the swing of things at home, starting off with a pill war between Mom and Dad. She'd been off and on with wanting to take her nutritional supplements over the past few weeks. Sometimes she'd wake up and want to battle with someone. It wasn't enough she was being defiant about living. She had to fight with us as well.
"Sweetheart, take your pills," Dad said.
"I don't want to," Mom said.
"Come on sweetheart. You're almost done," Dad said.
But Mom wasn't feeling it. It was like trying to force a mule to do something. Good luck. So Dad waited for the reset, which sometimes worked. But not always.
If you looked up the definition for mule in the dictionary, the kind where they have those cute little sketches, you would see a sketch of my Mom next to it. The woman gave new meaning to stubborn.
There was an old family photo, taken by a cousin, I had seen of Mom when she was three or four years old. Mom stood there, in this defiant stance, challenging everyone and everything. I think she was born a firecracker.
I don't know how my Grandmother wrangled the lil firecracker. I wondered if my Grandmother came close to choking Mom out as many times as my Dad had. Maybe it was why my Mom was shipped off to boarding school. If my Grandmother were still alive I'd give her a BIG HUG and then a fucking a medal.
The end of the year was upon us and I didn't have a thing to show for myself or my life. It was another failure to achieve "The American Dream". I had failed to get that job, husband, house, 2.5 kids, and dog. Instead I spent pretty much my entire year playing nursemaid and warden to a Mother I learned to hate and then wanted to save.
If there was a "God" he had a funny fucking sense of humor. The irony of it all was not lost on me.
I never knew love could be so hard. I never knew how far I'd go for love. I didn't know how much it would suck the life from my bones. I must have missed the fine print in that life manual.
Every day was struggle. Every day was another fight on the battlefield. Every day I questioned how much longer I could go on and how much I had left inside to give on this endless journey to destinations unknown.
Juice Day 99
3 ½ apples
1 tablespoon ginger root
4 leaves collard greens
4 leaves napa cabbage
10 beet green leaves
1 stalk of celery
1/3 cup fresh pineapple
YOU ARE READING
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...