Tortured Souls (On Hold)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My mom is dying from cancer.  It started in her cervix and metastasized to her major organs. They hadn’t discovered this until she was in to have a hysterectomy.  They have given her two months at best.

The pain medication is making her a bit loopy.  She has moments of such clarity though, it is almost like seeing her for the first time.  She seems so “normal” at these intervals, like she was never crazy to begin with.  I am not here to judge, just listen.  I am straining to find the answers to all the things in my life that never have made sense.  She is doing her best to enlighten me, but waiting for those lucid times is like waiting for Prince Charming.  You hope he is going to arrive any minute, but you know it may never happen.

My grandparents and I have never really been close.  I saw them a few times when I was a little girl, but I haven’t seen or talked to them in the past twelve or so years.  They disowned their daughter when she got pregnant.  They checked in every couple of years to make sure she was still alive I guess.  The first time they ever saw me, I was already two-years old.  The last time I was twelve, and they came to see me get an award at school.  They didn’t come to my high school graduation, but then neither did my dad.  By that time, he was shacked up with some girl my age, and she was apparently pregnant.  He never divorced my mom, he couldn’t afford to.  It wasn’t just the legal fees; he didn’t want to pay child support.  My mom was high constantly at this point, so expecting her to get a public lawyer to help her was out of the question.  Welfare, paid for the basic necessities, I worked a part-time job to pay for everything else.  I think this was part of the reason I was so eager to run off with my ex-husband.  I should have given that a little more thought in retrospect.

The only consolation I have, at this point, is that my mother’s pain will finally end, and it is one less burden I will have to carry on my shoulders.  However, the demons keep reminding me that they own her too, so I am not sure she is really going to a better place.

She has been coming in and out of consciousness for the last half hour, so it should be anytime now that she will be ready to talk.  I am feeling the effects of not having a drink in the last three hours, so I am not sure how much longer I can hang on before I start to lose it completely.  I guess if you are going to have a mental breakdown, the best place to have it is while you are already at the hospital.  They can just pull down the sheets of the bed next to my mom and strap me in.

“Tati, are you here?” my mom whispers.  “Yes, mom, I’m here.”  Tati is my nickname.  My real name is Tatiana; that is the name I was given at birth.  I am a Spencer by marriage, a Rawlings by birth.  I think I am ready to hear what she has to say, but are you ever really ready for someone’s death bed revelations?

“Bring me some water Tati, my throat is so dry.”

“Here you go mom, just drink it slowly so you don’t throw it up.”

She is so weak that to drink it any other way would be impossible, but I really just needed something to say to her.  I keep thinking what it would be like if I was her age and lying in that bed.  Would I have someone sitting by my side, like I was for her?

“Tati, I need to tell you some things so you understand why your life was anything from what I had always wanted for my children.  I actually never expected that I would have only one.  I had wanted at least three, but that was impossible.”

“Is life ever what we want”, I snidely reply.

“Maybe not, but it shouldn’t have had to be so cruel either”, my mom states.  “I thought I would marry a nice Christian boy when I was seventeen, and we would have a beautiful house with a yard for the kids to play in.  That was my dream anyway.  I was on my way to getting it, at least until I met your father at high school.  My parents were very religious.  Religious meant strict.  No dancing, no music other than hymns, no movies, no drinking, no smoking, no going out with boys without a chaperone.  Actually I wasn’t even supposed to be allowed out with a boy until I was seventeen.  Until I met your father, I didn’t see anything wrong with the rules I lived with.  It was normal as far as I knew.  However, that year I had to attend the public high school, as my mom had come down with a horrible cough that wouldn’t go away, and she had to quite working.  That meant there wasn’t enough money for me to go to the private Christian school that was part of our church.  I am sure if my father could have foreseen what was to come, he would have worked three jobs if it meant keeping me in the Christian school.”

“Is that why grandma always looked so drawn and frail whenever I saw her, she never recovered from the cough or the scandal?”

“I think she eventually would have recovered from the cough, but she was sick with a broken heart.  I broke it, and there was no putting it back together.  In fact she died a couple months after attending your award presentation.  I could tell she wanted to hold you in her arms even for a few minutes, but my father wouldn’t allow it.  He will never forgive me for shaming him so.  I just don’t think she wanted to go on living.  She died of a heart attack in case you were wondering.”

“That explains quite a lot actually.  I have often wondered why I never saw them after that point in time,” I said almost as an afterthought.

“Would you be a dear, Tati, and help me turn to my side.  I am feeling very sore in this position, and I want to be able to share so much more with you.”

As I helped my mom turn to face me, I wondered if she was really sore, or if she wanted to be able to watch my reactions and expressions as she continued on with her story.  We were interrupted by the nurse who came to check all my mom’s vitals and ensure her medication was in order.  I took that opportunity to take a bathroom break and have a few sips of vodka to take the edge off the tremor that was starting to show itself in my hands.  Honestly, I needed the “courage” it would give me, or the deadening of the senses is more accurate.  I didn’t want to react in anyway to anything my mom had to say, at least not in front of her.  I had to make her think I was strong, that there wasn’t anything she could say that would hurt me more than I already had been.  This break might take a little longer than I thought.  I was on my last few sips of vodka which I had in my convenient to-go travel mug.  I was going to need to get a new supply if I was going to make it through this day.