The Valley

I drove home for Memorial Day weekend to attend a funeral. A friend's brother passed away, and the service commemorating his life was taking place that Sunday. Before I made it home, though, I was alerted that my mother was back in the hospital. She'd been having trouble sleeping, trouble breathing, and overall weakness in her body. Guess the bear hug I needed from her was going to have to wait. This weekend, she needed me more.

I arrived in my hometown too late to visit her that night. She was scheduled for release the next day, and I was prepared to take care of her in any way that she needed. My brother and his future wife made it in town about 30 minutes after I did (close to 1:00 am). Dad was asleep and Paris was busy on her laptop... so I watched a movie to calm my nerves about the next day's events.

I woke up Saturday morning, dialed Mom, and found out she wouldn't be coming home any time soon. The doctors were awaiting test results and, since many of them had the holiday weekend off (!!), she would be spending the next three days cooped up in a hospital room. WTF. So, in eldest child fashion, I began knocking on bedroom doors and rounding up the troops. "Get up!" I said, brushing tears off of my cheeks, "we're going to the hospital."

I headed downstairs for a quick pep talk with Corinne. Both of her parents had just finished rounds of Chemo, and I needed to know what I was in for. Granted, I was jumping to conclusions as no one had mentioned the word "cancer" just yet, but I needed to know what to do. How was I supposed to handle this?

Corinne did her best to reassure me, and I jumped into the shower so that we could leave. Once we arrived to her room, I opened the door surprised and elated to see my grandparents and Aunt seated around the room alongside my father. Sighs of relief. She was not alone. We exchanged warm welcomes and found our places (chairs, window sills, the foot of the bed, etc.). We were going to be there for awhile. The day was passing quietly enough when yet another troubling bit of news came to us by phone. My paternal grandmother, God bless her, was suffering from dementia. Though my dad and his own siblings had moved her to an assisted living home, her health was starting to get the better of her. She had suffered a few mini-strokes over the past weeks (unbeknownst to my aunts and uncles), and wasn't in good shape. She was having trouble recognizing her own children's faces. She was weak....

When it rains it pours.

My siblings and I left around 4:00 to grab dinner, and returned (after a brief nap) to spend the evening with Mom. She was a bit groggy and obviously tired, but she was not defeated. I love that lady. By 11:30, after the Lakers BARELY slid by the Nuggets, it was time to give Mom some rest. Both my little bro and I were too weirded out by the day's events to go straight home - so we headed to a hookah bar. He, his girlfriend and I partook of Watermelon and Blue Ice hookah along with bottomless cocktails that night. After awhile, we began to feel the effects of the smoke and spirits, and had a quiet breakdown at the corner patio table. I started it. We were talking about how great our parents were, and how strong they had been in raising us. The mere thought of anything remotely negative happening to her became too much to bear. Then my bro was in tears. Thinking about Grandma, and our family as a whole, and how devastating it would be for Dad if anything - in either situation - went awry.

Whew.

Sunday, I woke up exhausted but oddly refreshed after some much needed rest. I got dressed and headed to the funeral. For the most part, I was able to stay together, shedding a tear every now and then as thoughts of other potential funerals began to cloud my thoughts. Had to shake those off... Funerals, though tragic, are often beautiful. The poems, testimonies and words that family members used to express their remembrance of the deceased were beautiful. The most poignant statement to me, came from his father. He said that family had to hold on to one another in times like this. Others may try to console you, and express their regret, but their words won't necessarily mean that much when you are grieving. Only those others who have experienced your exact same loss will understand and truly be able to offer comfort. He said "do not take advice from people who have not been in your situation; people cannot give what they don't have." How true. And, I sought to apply that in my own life. While I was worried about my mom, my grandmother, and my now-deceased relationship with the boy (why was I even still thinking about that?!) I could only look to God to truly help me. Friends with parents who had fought cancer would be helpful. Family members or friends with ailing grandparents might offer insights here and there. Any girl with a broken heart knows what it feels like to have someone she loves bite the dust. But, the culmination of these things all at once? Having one's heart and mind stretched to capacity in a matter of hours? Who can advise on that? ::sighs::

Monday was better, but I dreaded having to leave. I had so much on my mind. I had so many questions. I had so much to say. And I needed help! I needed my Mommy to tell me what to do; to help make things right. So, I went alone to visit her. We sat and talked; we watched TV. And, as I was packing up my things to leave, I broke down again. I was crying about so many things that I couldn't even get the words out. Nurses entered and left to change her IV, take her temperature, and offer assistance. I just sat there, cradled in her left arm, waiting for them to leave.

We talked about relationships, and being single until you're thirty. I feel like that's the road I'm on these days. She said to me "I think you're worried about this because you see your brother with his girlfriend all the time. If he didn't bring her to every thing, you probably wouldn't even be focused on it." She was right. And while I didn't mention all of the devastating things that had happened in my own love life lately, her comment did put a few things in perspective. Why was I still trippin' about that estranged young man? Hellooooo. That ship has sailed.

We talked about how she was going to be just fine. Seeing me cry was going to make her cry. We all needed to just keep our spirits up and know that God was going to handle it. Had all of this church-going taught me nothing?! Of course God was going to handle it. Everything was going to be just fine!