A Wandering Mind

 It is so often that I depend on my mom's advice. I may use it, I may not. But I always love to hear it. It comforts me. She is real quick to say "mama's always right". Ever since she came home and said "they think it's a mass" I have been having horrible thoughts (sadly most of them have come true). It's weird, I know, but sometimes I start with a single thought and all of a sudden I'm in a alternate universe where I visualize the domino effect of that thought. What I mean is, I may think "What happens when I want to make a specific dish that my mom used to make but she is not here to give me the recipe?" then my mind unfolds a whole story where I call my aunts, but they don't know. I call my brothers, but they don't remember the dish. So I am stuck. I'm sitting at my kitchen table in silence. I can't call her because she is not there. Maybe her number won't even exist anymore. It was a number I didn't even have to think about dialing. My fingers were trained. I miss her so much I can't breathe. She's gone and never coming back.

Sometimes I think about another baby (to my mother's dismay). She is the only grandmother in the world that is totally in love with her grandchildren, but at the same time says "STOP HAVING BABIES!". Never the less, I think about another baby all the time. But, when I picture myself in the delivery room, screaming out in pain, I'm going to need her. She held my hand the entire time with both of my daughters. I found great comfort in her being there. Can I do it without her? Then again, WHY do it without her? Do I want to have a baby that she will never meet? I see myself in an empty hospital room. Michael at work. My brothers at work. My aunt's with their families. I am sitting in the bed staring at an empty chair. Holding a baby that will never know the best woman I ever met. Completely unable to feel the joy, because I'm overcome with sadness.

What will happen at Christmas time? Money has always been tight for my mama. But Christmas has never been less than "over the top" for us. She always goes all out. The gifts are strategically bought after a full year of taking notes about what we need and want. We have food and laughter and just the best time ever. When I think about her absence, I see us there trying to hold it together. My little brother quietly sitting with that look on his face. He has the saddest eyes when we discuss mom's illness.He usually changes the subject. I can see him sitting there lost in his misery. I can see me trying. Trying to make it fun. Trying to make it better. Trying to remember how she did it-and mimic her as much as I can. I see Ronnie. He is hurting but fighting through it to have a good holiday for the kids. He is crazy about the kids. He's fussing because we are messing up his house. But still glad we are all together. We share stories about past Christmases when the tree fell on mom, the Christmas morning that she threw up on the living room floor (long story), how she would always nervously say--"Now if you don't like it take it back! it won't hurt my feelings" as we were opening each present. What happens when the laughter stops and the stories end? As we get in our cars and drive away, what will we be thinking?

I know I shouldn't be this way. I know I should focus on today. And I do, most of the time. Most of the time I hang on to my hope for a miracle. That my mom is going to somehow beat the odds and live a full life. But I can't help but let my mind wander sometimes. What if the Dr's are right? What if she does leave me? A happy life without my mom is unimaginable. Directly after a day dream or day nightmare, I call mama and talk to her. I always feel better just to hear her voice. Before she got sick, when I would have bad dreams about losing her(which I had frequently) I would call her at work because she would be there so early. I'd tell her my dream and she would soothe me with "I'm fine baby. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Now I'm busy-go back to sleep and call me later." That's all it took. Through all of this, I've been waiting on that line. I even asked her for it recently, and she wouldn't promise me. She wouldn't say it. I guess I'll never hear it again. Mom has never been one to lie or make promises she doesn't know she can keep.

 Upset one day, I asked mom "what do I do if I call my aunts for advice, but they give me a total "non-you" response?" See, when I ask my mama for advice, I somehow already know what she is going to say-I just need to hear it. So, when I call up my aunts and they give me some "non-mama" feed back, I think I'm going to cry. I'm going to feel alone. What if Neva is being a rebellious teenager? What if Nori has a boyfriend I despise? What if something happens to mine or Michael's health? I will need her advice. No one else's. When they give me their "non-mama" answer, I see myself respectfully accepting the help, then hanging up the phone and feeling lost. Hopeless. Alone. She thought about the question I had asked her, then simply responded "why cant you look inside  yourself, and find the "me-response?" She's right. But I guess Mama's always right.