The Dream
I dreamt about her again last night. About 2-3 times a year I dream about her. She died about 10 years ago. In some of the dreams, she is well, coming back from the great beyond to talk. I hold her hand and touch her face, re-memorizing every feature. In others, like this one, she is sick and dying, and while I still get to hold her hand, I get to do something I never got to do in real life: say goodbye.
She lived out of town and was my best friend for as long as I can remember. Wise beyond her years, she was a source of good advice any time I needed to talk. She was raised poor, married young, had her family and when her kids were old enough to fend for themselves, she came into her own by going back to school and becoming a nurse. She worked as a nurse for 20+ years before she died.
It started insidious enough, so slowly that nobody ever noticed: A headache when she would laugh, or lift something. She never thought much of it, having had migraines her whole life. When it finally began to irritate her enough to act on it, it was discovered she had a tumor, dead in the center of her brain, just under the size of a golf ball. Surgery revealed it to be a tough mass of grissle with a prolific blood supply, which turned out to be both a blessing and a curse: benign but completely inoperable–too much could be lost by trying to remove it. She accepted her lot with grace, knowing that managing her headaches was all she could do. Knowing it was benign was good enough. Life went on.
A couple of years later she had a hysterectomy and she started HRT, and she loved to kid me because she loved not having periods anymore. Six months later I got the call: “its back”. The tumor was growing like cauliflower off the original stalk and by the looks of it, it wasn’t benign anymore. Two more surgeries, followed by the insertion of radiation pellets slowed the growth and for a while, it looked good. I got to look at her recent head x-ray and there was a huge black hole where her brain would normally be. It was a good thing according to the Dr.–thats where the tumor WAS, and the brain does not flex back to fill the space. We were thrilled. The pellets were doing their job. The surgeries had impacted her vision, but she could live with that, tho going back to work was no longer an option. She was alive and grateful for it.
Our joy was short lived. Just a few days later she stumbled and remarked. “If I hadn’t seen the scan myself, I’d say the tumor was back”. Unfortunately it was, and nothing was going to stop it now. She accepted this news with stoic resignation. I always wondered if it was an estrogen sensitive tumor triggered by the Premarin she took. We’ll never know.
Because she lived a 12 hour drive away, I usually tried to visit her once a month and stay for a few days. Watching this cancer ravage her body was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. It begged for a rewind button. She took many visitors, and joked with them to keep them at ease. She loved to say she had picked her funeral music: Drop Kick me Jesus thru the Goal Posts of Life, and Got Along Without Ya Before I Met Ya, Gonna Get Along Without Ya Now. She never lost her sense of humor despite how undignified the dying process became.
During this nightmare, we received an invitation for a wedding in Hawaii of all places. I was not going to go but she insisted. “I cannot go, you go as my representative” Mr Chick and I went and had a nice time but my thoughts were always with her. When I got home, I immediately made plans to fly to her home, but I had to work at least a couple of weeks. My partner was more than willing to help, but he couldn’t work 7 days a week. I had been back for only a week when the call came. I was at work . “It’s over” was all her husband said.
No, It couldn’t be over. I didnt’ get to tell her about the trip. I didn’t get to see her one more time. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I was at work and couldn’t even cry about it til I got home.
She ultimately chose to have no funeral. About 2 weeks later my father called to tell me they were having a pot luck dinner in her honor and would I like to come? I was covering my partners vacation now and there was no way. “Thanks, but go on without me this time”. I said.
I was there, however, when we scattered her ashes in the mountains several weeks later.
She was my best friend, and 10 years later, I miss her terribly.
I love you mom, See you in my dreams.
Tags: personal life | |