Tomorrow I leave for Missouri to visit with my mother. I am taking my 23 year old son with me.
I am not feeling great joy about this trip as I feel it is going to be my goodbye to her. It is actually killing me. With each piece of clothing I put in the suitcase I feel more sick. As if not packing, not having to go would change the circumstances of her life and mine.
It is daily reminders that are doing me in. Calling her, making her laugh, and then listening to the her cough so hard she can’t catch her breath. Having her tell me she can’t walk down the hall without stopping to sit down. Knowing that the fluid is going to return to her lungs and another procedure will need to be done.
Her friends sending me messages via Facebook, asking about her condition, and having to answer with the god awful truth.
Calling the oncologist nurse from Virginia to update her on the situation. Asking her to relay a message to her Doctor there that he didn’t really loose the battle with her and quitting chemo for the leukemia, it wouldn’t have done any good anyway.
Calling the bank to deal with her finances, and the tellers asking about her, because they loved her so much.
Repeatedly having to tell the story to someone at least once a day.
This trip was going to be simple, in the beginning. It has now turned into a family reunion. This is bittersweet. It will be great to see everyone, but it has eliminated the possibility of any time alone with her. We spoke about it today, neither of us think we will be able to sneak away. I am so thankful for the time I got in August, even though she was so sick.
I finally told her the truth about my recovery. I told her I go to AA, and that I am an alcoholic. I gave her an abbreviated version, but I did finally admit it to her.
She told me she completely understood addiction. Even with Stage IV, non-curable, non-treatable lung cancer she would smoke a cigarette given the chance.
I guess the saying should be:
ADDICTION, CUNNING, BAFFLING, POWERFUL.