by L. U. Ann
The walk into the hospital for a second time in less than twelve hours washes a grim wave over me. I feel as though everyone's eyes are on me, as if they know what is going on with my mom. That I may be motherless soon. My silent mantra returns full force. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. I cannot shake this awful feeling. I try to shrug it off as I enter the elevator. I make the trip up to the 12th floor where my mom is located.
An unearthly feeling immediately hits me as soon as the elevator doors open and I step off. I see my father in a different outfit. You've got to be kidding me! Do I really need to ask him to stay with his wife? Lane had lesson plans to work on and I had to take care of Evan. What the hell did he need to do? I am mad at myself when I realize that we all left her alone at the hospital. I would have stayed. I thought my dad was staying. Why the hell would he leave her with no one to sit vigil? Damn it! I immediately feel my cheeks start to flush and I'm sure everyone around can hear my heartbeat. It feels like it's going to jump out of my chest at any moment. What if something happened to her and she was all alone?
My dad stands when he spots me walking into the waiting room. He embraces me in a hug.
"I just got back, too."
I want to yell and scream at him, but I don't have the strength to argue, so I nod.
"Her condition hasn't changed."
Somewhat relieved that that much is true, I walk towards her room.
"I'm going to go see her."
The large clock on the wall next to her door reads ten-thirty now. The feeling I get when I walk into her room is like none other I have ever experienced. Nothing hits harder than seeing your mom, the very person who raised you, lay clinging onto life. I know my body is fighting exhaustion, and maybe that's why I can't wrap my head around a few things. All I can embrace is the feeling of guilt. I put Mom here because of my stubbornness. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't need a daughter like me.
If only I had listened to Evan yesterday, things might have been so different. He was saying her name over and over as if begging me to take him to see Mama. I almost caved. I missed her too. But me and my stubborn behavior kept me from showing up on her doorstep, and possibly saving her from this state.
I gently pick up her hand to hold in mine. Her fingers are cold and still swollen. The doctors have her left arm covered with a blanket. I have no idea what it looks like at this moment. Her kidneys are still working, thanks to this large box on top of her. What does the future hold? Maybe she'll need a kidney transplant. I wonder if I could be her donor. Her heart is beating somewhat normally at the moment, thanks to a pacemaker. What will the long-term effects be on her heart? When she wakes up, she will be so pissed off about her arm. I can only imagine the psychological trauma she will need to work through if they amputate it. Her hair is a mess, and…
Oh my God. OH.MY.GOD! They have shaved some of the hair off her head. Maybe I should have been paying better attention when the doctors were speaking so that I would know why they needed to do that.
If Mom survives this, she will remember I put her here. She will never forgive me. I have lost my mom no matter what.
A light knock wakes me from my thoughts. It's Lane. I give Mom a kiss, tell her I love her, and will be back shortly. As I’m getting ready to leave the room, I give Lane a small smile that does not match my eyes. I return to the waiting room before the nurse spots both of us in Mom's room.
"The doctors would like to speak to us. Let's wait until Lane has had her chance to visit, and then we'll all get updated," Dad says as he sits in the family area.
Time doesn't exist right now, so I'm not sure how long we’ve waited for Lane to return, but now, we're following the doctor as he leads us into a private room. My silent mantra has begun once again. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. This is the only thing I feel. I am numb and confused. The doctor explains my mother's comatose state and that there is very little brain activity. Her kidneys are not working on their own, she will require a permanent pace maker, and she will need to have her arm amputated so that the diseased tissue doesn't spread. The doctor is not confident my mom will wake from this state. He believes they have done all they can and would like to keep her comfortable.
I stare at my thumbnail as I use it to glide under my other nails, freeing any dirt or anger out of my system. This is not the way it is supposed to happen. I asked my father to save her and he fucked up. How could he not listen to me? Lane and I know her better than he does. When we were growing up, we were the ones who admitted her to the ER several times because we thought she was suicidal. He WAS supposed to HELP HER! I told him that night, the last night I would ever see my mom alive.
After the doctor leaves the room, I stand and excuse myself. I need to get to the chapel. I need to pray with all my might that God will do anything to help bring Mom back to us. I tell God I will do anything. Anything at all. Just please bring Mom back! Please bring her back for Evan, Lane, and Blake. They need her! I make a plea with God. I will dig my own grave with all my sins if that's what it takes to bring my mom back. My father and Lane have followed me. I don't realize until they sandwich me in the pew. Holding hands, we begin the Lord's Prayer:
Our Father, who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done...
Something isn't right. I can feel it. Something happens when we say the word "done" while praying. I quickly finish up a silent prayer and plea so that I can call Devon. I go to the nearest area where there is cell coverage and dial his assistant's number. A receptionist answers. I beg her to pull him out of the meeting, telling her it's an emergency.
"Lacey?" Devon asks, panicked.
"Dev, oh God, I need you. Please come quick. It doesn't look good," I cry, losing my composure.
"I'm on my way, Baby. Hold on, I'm leaving right now. Just hold on, Sweetheart. I love you," he chokes out on the other line.
"I love you, too."
"I'll be there as soon as I can. Please stay strong." I nod, silently answering him.
"Bye." I manage, wanting to get upstairs.
With Devon now on his way, I rush back up to the 12th floor. I need to see my mom right this instant for some reason. I step out of the elevators and my dad is at the nurses station of the ICU. He has a pained look on his face and my sister is hysterical.
"NO, no, nooooo...NO! Oh my God, no!" I scream.
My sister turns around, and the look on her face tells me everything I need to know. I no longer have a mother. I hear my dad talking in the background about her heart giving out and his orders not to revive her. What? I cannot feel my legs. They begin to give out, and Blake rushes to pull me over to a chair. I sit and cry tears shed for the first time without my beautiful mother in the world. This cannot be happening! I rub my hands up and down my thighs and begin to rock back and forth.
Why didn't he have them resuscitate her? I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. My world has been crushed. All because I’ve been stubborn and put her safety in the hands of a man who doesn't truly love her. I love her and I’ve failed her. I guess that is the difference between my father and me. I knew she needed help and didn't get it for her. I let the ball drop and my mom is now dead because of me.
Shaking my head, I briskly walk over to the doctor, begging him to shock her, to bring her back.
"You have to do something. You're a doctor and supposed to save people. Please."
"Lacey, she has a DNR and told me not to save her if it ever got to this point," says my dad, putting an arm on my shoulder.
A DNR? Do not resuscitate? I've never known about one.
I am lost. I would change places with her in an instant. She is such a better person than I am. What am I supposed to do now? OH MY GOD, what do I tell Evan? My sweet boy, he is going to have his heart ripped out. The door to the private room flies open and Devon is there. I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist, needing to feel his heartbeat,
needing to have my heart mended by the only person capable of doing so, needing him to tell me there has been a mistake.
"Shh, I've got you, Baby." Devon says, trying to comfort me. His embrace helps me seek shelter from the exploding emotions running through me. With one arm around my waist, he gently strokes my hair, trying to bring some sort of comfort. Once he thinks I've calmed down, he sits in a chair, and allows me to curl into him. His places his hand on my forehead to push it back.
"I'm so sorry, Lacey," he says, allowing me to breathe his breath.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I nod. I've never needed him like I do right now.
"I love you," he whispers, allowing me to curl back into him.
While Devon asks my dad and Lane specifics, I block out the world. I don't really hear too much. I don't want to. I am broken.
This is the day that changes my life. This is the day I face death.
Chapter Twelve and a Half
At some point, night comes and goes. I can't tell you what time it is now, but I know Devon's at work, and my Sweet Pea is at his parents.
I've failed them all. How can I sleep knowing I've ruined their lives? My mom will never see Devon and I marry. My mom will never see Lane and Blake's children... never! Their children will never know Mama like Evan did even if he's only just over a year and a half old. I’ve taken that from them.
Sleep doesn't sweep me away. I sit awake in this hard chair, wishing for God to punish me and bring my mom back...
I am sitting here, unable to feel anything but emptiness, sorrow, and regret. I don't even believe I told her 'I love you' the last time I saw her. Those three little words mean everything. Please God, let this be a dream. I need her to know I love her. The door opens and a nurse walks in.
"Good afternoon. I'm so sorry to hear about your loss. A bereavement counselor will be in to see you shortly."
A who, what? Whatever.
I go back to my inner thoughts.
Why did she write so lovingly about my father? Did he help her? He told me last night he was angry the other day and told her to kill herself. What the hell? He caused her so much pain throughout their marriage.
The bereavement counselor walks in, gently taking her seat.
“I am sorry for your loss. Because you are a survivor of suicide, your grief process is different from others. Here are some pamphlets and resources I’d like to give you. I'm hoping you’ll take the time to read them and find a support group.”
I want to run outside and scream. I clench my hands, and dig my nails into my legs. I can't take knowing that I've caused all this pain, and now I’m supposed to find a support group? This lady is crazy! My mom is the one who needed a support group and I didn’t find her one.
“The shock and pain you are feeling is very normal. The upcoming days and weeks are going to be the most difficult. Try to lean on one another as much as possible. Grief is complex and complicated. No one handles death the same way. Please allow yourself to grieve and deal with the loss.” The lady finishes, giving us a pained, sad, pathetic look.
Bitch has no clue what the hell she’s talking about. I rock myself, trying to remember to breathe so that I don’t run. I want to run away from this. Why can’t I?
The family arrives from out of town. Devon makes all the arrangements of where everyone is staying. My grandfather and aunt are staying with Devon and me. Why did I say yes? Grandma Pain isn't able to make it. I forgot she just had cataract surgery. I don't want to inconvenience her so I tell her I'm fine. I tell everyone I'm fine. How can I expect or ask for an ounce of sympathy when it's my fault?
Hours later, there is no food in the house and some of us are hungry. We all go to some restaurant where Devon's parents meet us so I can get Evan. Devon is constantly holding me as I hold onto Evan. I need him right now. I don't want to be here, but it seems as though I'm expected to be. I don't even know the food they are serving. The menu is open in front of me, but I can't read it. Quietly, I place it down in front of me and try to go unnoticed. I don't want to talk.
"Lacey?" Dad asks, and I realize the waitress is looking at me.
"Oh, I'm good with water." I say, rubbing Evan's back.
"Honey, you need to eat. Mom wouldn't want you to starve yourself," he says at my response to the waitress.
"I'm not hungry." I seethe, because he's munching away on something in front of him. His wife just died and he's eating! Screw him!
"I'll take care of it," Devon says, trying to get my father to stop asking me to eat. He knows I can't eat when I feel like this. He's seen the little bit that dealing with Caine has done to me. This is a billion times worse.
Tonight, family comes and goes. I can't tell you what they’ve said to me other than 'you need to eat'. Seriously, you want me to fucking eat when I essentially killed my mother? I don't have an appetite. I want nothing but to go back in time and fix what I messed up. My choice to close off my mom is what sent her away forever. Why can't people accept the fact that I have no freaking appetite and leave me alone?
Eighty six thousand, four hundred seconds have gone by since the moment I became motherless. How can I be a mother? How can I be a good mom when I didn't take care of my own? I don't know how to go on. I don't know how to pick myself up and just live again when my mom can't.
Evan is with the Holmes family for the day. They have been very understanding and want to do more. I can't think straight enough to tell them what is needed. Devon's torn about leaving me. Last night, he held me while I held Evan in my arms all night, allowing me to cry once Evan fell asleep. I know he wants to stay with me, but he needs to go back to work. Frank offers to drive me to my parents. Wait, it's no longer my parents. My father’s house. The thought makes me want to puke. Shit!
Devon feels a little better going into work for a while. He'll come pick me up later. I’ve told him that I need to take my grandfather and aunt over to my father’s anyway. Lane is meeting me there. She’s taken a number of days off of work. Blake needed to go back to work as well.
I return to my parent’s, I mean my father's house.
"Lane... Lacey, can you do me a favor? I caaaan... can't do it. I can't. I'm sorry." My father cries. "I can't go make the arrangements."
If my heart and head would work properly, I would tell him that he needs to man up and do something for a change. But no, I nod, not wanting to cause anyone more grief. He lists a few things that Mom wished: cremation, blessing with her mom's holy water, and her ashes to be scattered over the Gulf of Mexico. The gulf, where she felt she was at home.
"We'll go together," Lane whispers, putting her arm around me. The appointment is tomorrow. Tomorrow at this time, one hundred seventy two thousand, eight hundred seconds will have passed of me being motherless. No, forget that, Lane is motherless. I am the awful one who didn't care. I am the one who took Evan away.
Coffee, I can do coffee. In my search, Aunt Paula tries to make small talk about the issues she's dealing with back home in Florida. She's telling me how much my mom loved her. How she would spend endless nights on the phone with her, talking about how upset she was with me.
Excuse me? Do I need a fucking reminder? Aunt Paula is beside herself. She lost her mom five years ago and now her sister. She doesn't know what to do. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
I can't take any more.
"Will you please stop talking about yourself? Lane and I just lost our mother and we are trying to cope. I'm sorry you lost grandma five years ago, but Lane and I just lost our mom. Give us some time before we need to feel sorry for you." I run up the stairs of my parents', I mean my father's home.
I settle into Mom's office behind her laptop. I want to know the last thing my mom looked at. I want to know if she researched how to kill herself. If she attempted twice before and was unsuccessful, what the hell did she take or do to finally succeed?
Lane comes running upstairs after lecturing our Aunt on compassion.
"Lane, I'm so sorry I went off like that. I c
ouldn't take hearing about how sad she was when you and I are standing right there. She is our elder. Isn’t she supposed to act like a grown up? This whole family is messed up." I throw my head down onto the desk and cry. I silently ask Lane to forgive me for taking Mom away.
"Are you kidding? For one, it was entertaining, and second, that kind of felt good. I'm so sick and tired of her putting herself first. You don't say 'My Aunt's in town' during that time for nothing." Lane shakes her head in disbelief.
I on the other hand actually laugh. It just comes out.
"I'm looking to see if I can find out what she researched to kill herself, and when. I don't know what I want to do with the information, if I find any at all. I think it will just help me cope." I try to explain my craziness.
"No, let's look!" She urges me to go on.
Hours later, I have some research under my belt. I’ve emailed a number of sites to myself so that I can look into it further later. I think I have a good idea of the number of medications my mom took and in which order they were taken so that she could finally end her life.
"Dad, did you know the drugs Mom was researching?" I ask as I walk down the stairs. I began rattling off the drugs and the interactions they have with one another.
"Lacey, she's gone. Why are you bothering with it?" Dad replies. He seems irritated by my curiosity.
Hmm... Please, dear God, do not let me find out he helped her. Please God!
Yep, you guessed it. One hundred seventy two thousand, eight hundred seconds have passed motherless. While it may only be forty-eight hours, my mom's body is already at the funeral home. Her death has been ruled suicide, which resulted in a quick autopsy. Lane and I step into the old building that smells just like my grandparents' house. How does one get that smell? It's a smell of old. My mom doesn't belong in a place like this. She isn't old, I mean, wasn't.