June 16, 2004

Death and Decisions

He can't remember the song
The words they all come out wrong
And all his records are cracked
He knows you can't get it back
- Angie Aparo

"Sometimes we miss being important - miss being needed."
- Cary Smith Henderson, "Partial View"

How the words become obfuscated, how the twilight lingers beyond normality, how the numbers no longer add up. How vision blurs into shapes we don't recognize, how sounds mingle into chords we don't understand, how thoughts consume the entire world surrounding us. How we slip away in silence, becoming visible only in rear view mirrors, in the flickering light of barrel fires, and in Sunday mornings when they come with flowers to place above the ashes and dust.

I worry about my mom. For the past two years, she has been living with my grandma, living off of my grandma, and avoiding Life in a more complete way than I ever thought, ever imagined, was possible. There are always new reasons why she can't find a job, new people who are out to get her, and new plans for her Grand Future. All the while, she fades away more and more, from my life, from her life, from everything.

Living with my grandma, while it gave her the resources to ignore all of the contentious issues in her life, also allowed for a measure of stability and purpose in her day. Though I would still worry often, knowing that she was around someone else and had the necessities for living was a great comfort.

My aunt and uncle have talked to me, more and more frequently of late, about the need to start planning for my mom's future, as she seems to be incapable of planning it for herself. We've agreed, though, to wait until my grandma's death before beginning the ugly, but perhaps necessary, process of dealing with someone who is unable to deal with herself. Over the past year, my grandma has started to fade, but I was hoping, perhaps only for my own comfort, that she would live for a while longer, and the confrontation with my mom-- and it surely will be a confrontation-- could be put off. It's ironic, a bit, that I wanted to put off dealing with my mom, just as she puts off dealing with the issues in her life.

How the time is never now. How the time is always now. How we're never quite sure.

When I got home tonight, I turned on the TV. The Forgetting was on PBS. Listening to those stories, hearing the struggle in those voices, watching the pain of dealing with someone losing touch with the world-- I just sat there, on the couch, amongst the scattered books and pictures of yesterday. It was a little too close for comfort.

I'm not sure I'm ready for this. It hasn't been that long, really, since I got my own shit together-- if I even really do have my own shit together.

My brother was in town yesterday for a training class. We had dinner, talked about nonsense and non-subjects, and pretended we were okay. We-- I-- called our mom, and endured the questions and confusion. (Is Andrew still in Corvallis? [He moved from there in '99.] What's your new phone number? [The same number it's been for the last three years.] Have you seen my ___ around the house? [Like I could find anything in this scrap yard.]) And then: "This is for your ears only-- don't tell ANYONE else-- but grandma passed away this afternoon."

Because the words that precede an announcement of someone's death should always be 'Don't tell ANYONE.'

Apparently, the bitter battle over my grandma's will has started, and my aunt and uncle won't be told of their mother's death for a few days. Even then, it will be through a lawyer, because that, of course, makes perfect sense.

I told my mom that was ridiculous. I told it was a horribly mean thing to do. I told her it will make things worse. I hung up, and felt sick for knowing, felt conflicted about knowing, felt like I wanted oatmeal raisin cookies more than anything.

I worry about my mom. I'll worry a lot more now that no one is around to take care of her. I'll worry a lot more now that my aunt and uncle will be more proactive in taking steps to arrange for that care. I'll worry a lot more now that the time has come to stop avoiding problems that shouldn't have been avoided for so long.

I'll worry a lot more now because I don't know what else to do.

Posted by Sean at June 16, 2004 11:58 PM

Comments

Posted by: Raquel at June 17, 2004 03:45 PM

Posted by: celina at June 19, 2004 12:50 PM