Holding On (7 page)

“
To be honest I started to
feel weak months ago, but I just thought maybe I was doing too
much.  After Mace left for school I was so depressed and felt
so alone and almost unnecessary to life that I started making new
hobbies and spending more time with my friends at the club.
 Golf, tennis, just throwing myself into whatever I could to
take up time that I just didn’t notice. The years were moving so
fast and then recently I was just so tired.  Warren suggested
I go and get a physical because no matter how much rest I was
getting I never felt very well.  So I did as Warren asked and
the result is...well, you know now.”  My mom looks into her
hands, twisting them in front of her.  She’s only 53 years
old, how is this even possible?  So young and it is so
unfair.

I sit stoic.  Here’s my mom, the
most emotionally withdrawn person I know.  Usually she’s
soaked in her drink, but she’s sober right now.  She wasn’t
wobbling down the stairs from vodka; she was wobbling from being
weak because she’s sick.  Dad looks the way he does because
he’s been carrying this burden alone for some time now.  For
how long exactly, I don’t know but it has worn on him.

Father Marcus comes over to stand by
me.  He grabs my hand from the table and puts it in his and as
if he wants to reassure me that I’m able to talk to him if I need
to. The warmth of human touch encourages me to look at my mother,
still standing in Hem’s arms.  Both his arms are covering her
almost completely now and I know the safety she feels there, I am
familiar with it.  

Also, I know how Hem is feeling.
 She’s my mom too.  He feels that if as long as he holds
her, he’s able to keep her sickness at bay.  My heart shatters
for Hem, that man and his mother have a bond that cannot be
explained with words, just felt with the heart.  I need to say
something, anything to break this silence.  

“
How
long have you known, Mom?”  It’s really all I can say.  I
should run to her, but I can’t.  I keep hearing the words in
my head that she professed just moments earlier.  She’s dying.
 My Mom is
dying
.  My heart hurts and I
need to get out of here but I’m frozen to this spot.

“
Pretty girl, does it
matter?  I wanted you and Patrick here so I could explain, but
really there’s nothing to explain now.  You know why you’re
here.  I love you all so much.  I’m going to take it one
day at a time and please do not tell me how I can be saved.
 Warren and I have seen many doctors here in Ohio, you have to
know that he has done all he can for me.  I’ve spent some time
with Father Marcus and the Parrish trying to get answers to
questions I should have asked long ago, but I didn’t because I
never made the time between my vodka tonics and afternoon naps. But
love, I’m at peace with this now, please be at peace with me.
 I need you, all of you.”  

Her lips quiver as she says
the last sentence.  My Mom has never needed any of us, now she
does.  She’s asking
us
to help her into a peaceful death, ironic really.
 Hem knows nothing about peace because of her and her choices.
 I don’t want to help her find death, she’s my mom and she’s
asking this of me, something impossible that I can’t help her with.
 At least she’s been visiting Father Marcus to educate her on
how to die according to God.  I feel sick and
faint.

“
Mama, you’re not going to
die.”  Hem is in denial.  I can see it.  It hasn’t
hit him yet.  He’s still holding her tight and now her face
has gained some color, only because his hold around her is so
strong and protecting.  “You’re not going to die, Mama.”
 He repeats.  He is breaking my heart.

She pulls back from him so she can sit
down again.  He cradles her frail body as she takes her seat
as if she will break even while sitting.

“
My beautiful boy, I am.
 Let me enjoy my last months with you and then, let me go.
 Give me peace within the family, Patrick.  I need you to
do this for me, please.  You and Warren need to work it out,
get things straight so that when I’m gone Mace still has her
family, and they aren’t always at odds with each other. You need
this family too, son.”  

I find my voice again.  “How long
do you have?  Do you know?  I mean, is there a limit or a
date or something you can tell us about what to expect from now on?
 I mean, surely since you have seen specialists and they are
telling you there is nothing to be done, that they have an idea of
how long we have left with you.  I’m reaching my limit here
with this Mom, this isn’t some polite everyday conversation and I
have no idea how to even just ask you the date that you plan to
die?  You’re leaving, no Mom never mind, you're not just
leaving, you’re dying.”  I say this, and as I hear dad gasp I
feel Father Marcus move his hand to the nape of my neck, silently
asking me to be quiet and stop adding stress to an already
sensitive situation.  God, I just want out of here.
 Please, I need to get out of this house.

Hem hiccups in quiet sobs; I see it
and I can hear it.  He’s hiding his face in mom’s hair and it
is finally more than I can bear.  God, I need fresh air.
 

I’m out!  I stand up,
releasing Father Marcus’ hold on me and no way can I look back at
Hem again.  I start for the door and I hear the footsteps
behind me.  I know its dad.  I can’t deal with him right
now either, he kept this from Hem and I and I don’t even know for
how long. How many days have my parents robbed me of knowing this
about my mom?

“
Sweet pea, please wait.
 Let me grab you a coat.”  

I don’t wait.  I keep
walking.  Faster paces come on Mace, faster.  If I can
just make it to the door I can escape and pretend this isn’t
happening.  
This is not
happening.
 Mom.  

Without turning around I have my hand
on the door and I’m ready to bolt.

“
Dad, I need a few
minutes.  Please just leave me alone and go back to Mom.
 You and Hem need to wrap your shit up for tonight.  Mom
doesn’t need it, no one does!”

I turn around and look at him now.
 He’s broken.  My strict, clean cut, loving dad looks
broken and lost.  I can’t place my finger on the other emotion
I see in his eyes.  He looks almost angry.  I know he’s
angry at Hem, even though my father can visibly see the love Hem
has for Mom and I both, Dad still hates him just for existing.
 There is just something else in his eyes.  

“
Ok, but take this and
come back when you can.  Don’t leave yet Sweet Pea, okay?”
  

“
Okay Daddy.”

I take the proffered jacket and swing
it above my shoulders before making my way outside.  I
shouldn’t leave dad and Hem like this, to clean up after the storm
of mom’s delivery but I want to go to a happy place.
 Somewhere I can remember what it was like as a child and
never a worry given to losing a parent or loved one.

I walk the path from the backyard to
the lake where Sadey and I met as kids.  Memories of childhood
envelope me from the darkness to the light.  A better day
before this one, it is what I need.  

Mom is leaving. No, mom is dying.
 I won’t have a mom. Although she was a distant mother, she
was mine.  It hurts my heart to think that she won’t always be
here.  I don’t think a child gives thought to losing a parent
so young, we shouldn’t have to since it goes against everything we
want to believe.  Growing old shouldn’t just be a
luxury.

Right now, I just want to go back in
time and relive my childhood.  Spending times together when we
were always happy if for no other reason than just being together,
all of us.  Hem was living at home and we would spend hours at
this small lake with Sadey and Shame.  The four of us were
inseparable growing up.

My mom would finally call us in from
being outside all day once darkness covered us and she had long
since gone in to make dinner.  We would come back to the house
for ice cream, before even eating our meal.  She would give us
that to keep our minds off the fact that she was repairing our skin
from the evening we spent being a buffet to every bug and mosquito
in the area.

I know this now, I can acknowledge it.
 This was her way of loving us.  She never said the
words, never muttered an “I love you” but many memories I’m
remembering now, her actions said words she never voiced.
 

Mom is dying now.  She said “I
love you all” back at the house.  I had almost missed it,
covered in grief but now I can hear it in my head as if committing
it to memory, but sooner or later my memories will fade.

I turn to head back to the house to go
help Hem with mom.  I know he needs me and I’ve gathered
myself now enough to go back.  Just going back on a few good
childhood memories has helped clear my head for now.

I hear a voice over by the
tire swing my dad put up when I was a kid.  It is connected to
the oak tree that Shame and Hem had built a tree house in for Sadey
and I when we were six. Our make believe castle that the boys
guarded against all outsiders, keeping us safe.  I know its
Shame standing here, I know before even turning around to look.
 I can feel him here.  He’s found me at our childhood
escape.  

“
Hey Princess, you
alright?”  He hasn’t moved towards me.  Smart man, he's
gauging my mood from a distance.  He looks nervous.  He
hasn’t seen me for some time now, but all that forgotten upon the
news of mom.

I deep sigh.  “How did you know
to come? How did you know I was here?”  

“
Hem called me, said you
left the house.  He’s worried about you kid, but he doesn’t
want to leave your mom right now, so he asked if I could come by to
check on you.  I figured you would be here; it was the first
place I looked.  So, are you alright?”

He’s beautiful.  His face is
etched in concern.  Concern for Hem, for me, my mom, and even
Warren.  I love this side of Shame and wish this was a moment
I could enjoy it but the burden is weighing so heavy I forget to
breathe.

I hit my knees to the hard ground.
 Having Shame here, his familiarity to the family and the
surroundings of a past that I’m so scared to forget finally become
my undoing.  I feel the wet grass from the evening rain but I
don’t care so I just sit on my knees with my face in my hands.
 He steps to me quick, and his hands go immediately to my back
in comfort. He sits himself down in the grass, his back against the
tall oak then picks me up and sits me in his lap.  Ever the
gentle tattooed giant, he doesn’t want me wet or cold while I’m
grieving out loud.  He just rubs my back and lets me cry.
 His cut is cold from the fall breeze and mist but that
doesn’t keep me from burying my head onto it.  It is safe and
I feel protected. Closing my eyes, I just release my shock that has
finally turned to sadness.  

He continues to just rock me back and
forth slowly as I cry, murmuring into my hair that it will be
alright, that I will be alright.  I can’t really make out all
of it between my sobs and hiccups, but I do hear his familiar
words, those words I waited for as a child, then as a teenager.
 Beautiful words from this beautiful man that came here during
my time of grief and no matter how angry he was at me before this
moment, he won’t leave me until he knows I’m okay. There’s a
certain peace in knowing that.

“
I love your face,
Sweetheart”.  He holds my head tighter to his chest and just
continues rocking and kissing at my hair and temple in turn.
    

“
She’s not gone yet, baby.
 You still have time and you need to use this time to come to
peace with it.  You have an opportunity to let her go without
any regrets.”

I know he’s right but it doesn’t help
me right now.  He moves my face so that it’s moved away from
his chest and we are looking at each other closely.  Taking
his hands and moving them behind my neck, he traces his thumbs
across my cheeks to sweep away my tears. His thumb presses under my
chin to hold my head up to his.

“
She’s not gone yet.”
 He repeats.  

“
Hem isn’t okay, Shame.
 He loves her so much, the bond those two have is just so
strong.  I’m worried about him, he doesn’t have a dad and
Warren is horrible to him, always so hateful.”  I’m adding to
my worry now.

“
Sweetheart, Hem is much
stronger than you give him credit for.  Let him absorb what is
happening and then you lean on us for support.  You’re going
to need it.  It isn’t Hem I worry about, it’s you.
 You’ve been lucky enough to never experience real loss in
your life yet.  Hem has always protected you from this worlds
ugly, so this will hit you and when it does your family is here.”
 

Shame finishes and then moves my head
again so it is tucked under his chin tightly.  Rocking back
and forth, my sobs start to subside and I am able to close my eyes
as my body relaxes and finally molds into him.

“
Did you talk to Hem? When
he called you, did he sound okay? He was so broken when I left, but
I had to walk away. Father Marcus being there, it was like they
invited the Grim Reaper to dinner.”

He waits for just a beat, then I hear
him sigh, “Yes Sweetheart, I talked to Hem. No, I won’t lie to you
he is not okay. You’re right about him and Lynda. The bond they
have is strong, but she will help him through this. I’m here as
well. Like anything else, it will just take time to get used to the
idea. I have to tell ya though baby, probably not good karma to be
comparing Father Marcus to the Grim Reaper.” I feel him smiling at
the crown of my head and I let out a relieving giggle, my relief is
short lived.