DECEMBER 22, 2000 --
I awoke and realized that I was over two hours late for work. I got up and there were several messages on my answering machine. First of which was dad. "Son. Its dad. Call here please." Second message was him again. Third was my work. Jenny had come in to open the theater when I didn't arrive. They just wanted to see where I was. I called my dad first.
"Son, come home."
"Whats going on?" I asked.
"I just I need you to come here," He said quietly.
"She's dead isn't she?" I said. But I already knew. The cancer had won. There was a pause. Silence was deafening.
"Yes. She died at 8 this morning. Do you want to see her before they take her?"
"No. I don't dad. I just can't see her that way."
What we said next is a blur but I remember making plans to meet up with him at his work later. I called work and told them what happened and they said not to worry about coming in. They already figured thats what happened. I drove around town, eventually running into dad at his work. He had gone there to avoid seeing them take her body away from the house. He was sobbing with his co-workers. We left together and got coffee at Meijer's cafe. I do not remember what we talked about. I think he filled in the details of what happened. They were all around her and she took her final breaths and she was gone. There was a fake crystal heart she had got as a gift from QVC, that hung in the window. The sun shined light through it and illuminated her face. My sister in law took notice of that and it got everyone's attention. I don't know what that means really, but its something special to me. I own that fake crystal heart now. It hangs by my art desk to remind me.
I drove to my work and got hugs from people there. I really didn't know where else to go. I said that I was indeed going to the office Christmas party that night at Sydney's downtown apartment. I was looking forward to it actually. Anything to get my mind off what was going on. I drove to the house and my brothers were there. We all generally talked. John and Tony went and got some beer. We cranked open a couple and just talked about nothing. Dad came home and as he was climbing the steps, he began to sob hard. He barely made it into the door. He knew for the first time that he was coming into the house and his beloved wife wasn't there. God, I hope I never have to feel that feeling. He sobbed openly at the table in front of us. Here he was, this man who was the most stern, hard working, backbone of manhood, reduced to a blob of emotions and a complete wreck. He kept saying that if it weren't for us kids, he'd ram his truck into a tree. Tony and John wept. I did not. I sat sternly and quiet. We all told each other that we loved each other. Likely the only time that will ever happen again in our lives. The one thing that did unite us all was now gone.
Someone went and got my other brother Mikey and so all four of us were there. We listened to Jackie Wilson on CD and just tried to talk or think about ANYTHING else than mom. Dad would periodically leave to go to the bedroom and cry. Too proud even now to let us see him in pain. And he was in deep pain. After the third or forth time he left, I went in after him. What I saw was perhaps the saddest thing I had ever seen in my life. I'll never forget the image as long as I live. He was on his knees, head buried into mom's beloved chair. Her spot that she always had throughout our lives and sobbing into the cushion. I got him up and hugged him hard. I told him that he would never be alone, because he had me. He finally came out and rejoined us. After a while, I left and went to the Cinema Four Christmas party. Everyone was drinking and having a great time. Sydney was my secret santa and she splurged and got me a Pink Floyd rarities box set. She knew I was a huge Floyd fan. I don't know if others pitched in or not for it, or if it was her act of kindness because of my mother's death that motivated her to spend $60 on it, when our agreed upon limit was $20. I'll never forget that gesture. I left after an hour because I didn't want to be the elephant in the room. I went home and watched TV alone. And then I went to sleep. Never once letting the events of the day leave my head. It was indeed a long night.
----
As I type this, that day was ten years ago. And as I replayed these events in my head, I had to stop and cry it out a bit before I could continue. The pain never goes away. It always remains. And indeed, there's not one day that goes by where I don't think of my mother. Even in the little things. For example, when I pay at the pump for gas, I always get a receipt. Because mom once told me that she was charged twice and that I should always get a receipt. I have done that ever since and have never once got charged twice. Its a waste of paper and time. But I always do it. Because it reminds me of her.
Its because of her that I am who I am today. Her love of music and movies, pop culture in general. Her loving kindness, her grace. Her open heart, her artistic drive that she never could take the time to devote to. She gave up her life and her ambitions to give her all to us and her husband. At times, her life was a rough one. Husbands that cheated and did all sorts of unloving or nasty things to her. Kids who were tough to deal with at times. Having a son who was mentally handicapped and she took on that challenge. Dealing with my spoiled, needy ass. But supporting me and my dreams all the way. Its for her I am driven to succeed in everything I do in life. Because if I don't, I am not doing right by her. She wanted to be a writer, a performer, an artist, even a musician. But her situation in life deemed it not possible. So she focused her energy on us so that we could succeed. and succeed I have.
Its because of her I am driven. Its because of her death that I wrote comics and made my career and art the best I could deliver. and I never would strop striving to learn and grow. Its because of her death that I know life is precious and you have to go out and live every moment. Its why I love to travel and do things. Its why I love to be around those I care for and who give back to me equally. Its for her I choose not to dwell in suffering. Whenever I want to be with my mom, I pop in a dvd of one of her favorite movies or listen to The Beatles. I do wish she was here so we could talk about those things. Oh how I miss those conversations. Hell, its because of her that I am a Star Trek fan. And that is one of the main things at the core of my being. So indeed, Star Trek is her and its me. Sounds odd, but its true. Just go with it. It makes sense to me anyway.
Mom believed in a God and she certainly wasn't afraid of death. She didn't fear what was beyond this life, if indeed there is anything at all. She was worried about us kids and she wanted us to get close. In some things, we did try. Dad and I have become extremely close. And that in itself, is a miracle. We met each other halfway. Not without tribulation beforehand, sure. But we did achieve it. And I know one day I will have to face these same feelings over again when he goes. and maybe one day if my Kelly dies before me, I will be even closer to him because I will feel his pain of when he lost mom. but I hope those things are a long way off. For now, I take comfort in the idea that mom feared nothing and met death with her eyes wide open. Yes, we were robbed of her twilight years. Dad was robbed of his companion for life. She never knew me as a full fledged adult. She never got to meet my wife, or my children. But all I can do now is pass on to them how she was through how I come to terms with my own life and mortality. As someone in a movie once said "What we leave behind isn't as important as how we've lived." And I always will live on for the both of us. I carry her with me always.
Never forgotten. Never saddened. But always dreamed.
Ten years ago today. I'll never forget.
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