Thursday, November 13, 2014

three years

Three years ago today my life turned a corner.  Three years ago the person I thought would live to be 100 was diagnosed with cancer.  And even though a semi-serious chunk of time has passed, I remember that day all too well. Where I was, what I wore, expressions, emotions, who I told when and where, and how I wanted to wake up from this awful dream that was now my reality.  I don't mean to be this way, but I am so my mother's daughter.  We're date people.  We remember what we (and sometimes other people) wore on certain occasions.  We remember random people's kids names or when their dog died.  This type of memory can be a blessing, but it's also a curse.  It means I remember every day of that week long hospital stay. What happened when.  Which nurses were on duty.  Who came to visit.  Where I called people from the hospital. Which nights I stayed.  What I did (or as was most often the case didn't) eat. When she had surgery. How she woke up.  These memories are indelibly imprinted on my brain.  I try not to think of them, but sometimes, and especially at this time of year, they resurface with a sudden vengeance and threaten to  overwhelm the life I have now.

So much of this journey has been a private affair for me, however the older (ahem, or should I say, more mature) I become, the more I recognize the value of sharing these experiences with others.  To allow myself moments of complete transparency.  To say, hey, this is a crappy day, and here's why.  And most importantly, to not forget my mother and her all to short life here on earth.  Because even though the three months that followed her diagnosis were the most difficult of my life, they were also the last days I spent with my mama, and for that reason alone there will always be an element of preciousness about them.

So, tonight I'm going to see the National Theater Live production of Skylight.  Why?  Because it's something we would have done together and for whatever reason, it feels right.  And while she may not be with me physically, I'd like to think that she's with me in spirit, and maybe, just maybe, she'll be watching the show from heaven...