Emotions Do Settle In Time

It’s amazing how human beings can learn to adjust to situations. I went to visit Mom again yesterday. My stepfather was sleeping, so it was just my Mom and I. We had a nice visit, actually. I’ll need to bring her more trout – she informed me of this in her typical fashion: “I’m out of trout, by the way.” Translation: “You need to get your ass out on the stream and catch some more for me, Steve.” Quite honestly, I enjoy the hell out of it. It’s a small thing that I can do for her.

She was in extremely good spirits yesterday. She had some of her old energy back, and even though she’s still tethered to that oxygen tank, she seemed more herself to me. She was up and down from the table, wandering here and there as we talked – when people see us together, they know where I get my inability to sit still.  We talked about a lot of things: politics, the odd weather we’re having, the environment – just general conversation. It was really nice to see her in such good spirits, and feeling so much better.

We did also talk about her treatment. She has three more rounds of chemo left to go – she has another treatment next week. She’ll be knocked back down for a couple of weeks. It takes so much out of her. Even though I know that it’s necessary, it actually pisses me off to see her like that, knowing that it’s a side effect of something that is being done deliberately. I know, I know – the alternative is worse. I just hate seeing her like that.

I’m painfully aware that my mother is dying; that this disease is slowly but surely eating her away from the inside. I want to kill something, but there’s nothing that I can direct my anger at, really. If the truth is told, there is only one person responsible for this situation: my mother. She knows – and she has always known – what smoking can do to you. This is something she said herself: “I’m paying the price for refusing to quit smoking for all those years.” And yes, I suppose that in part I’m angry with her about this. No matter how much we may talk about this, no matter how much closer we are becoming, I can’t look at her and say, “Mom, I’m really pissed off at you for this, you  know.” I just can’t do that.

I’m also angry at something I can’t define. Not God, Creator, or whatever you choose to call your deity. Just… Angry in general about the fact that she’s dying. There’s nothing for me to direct that anger at. It’s just there, kind of simmering below the surface for me. It will stay there until I can figure out where to direct it.

So I’ve learned – a little bit, anyway – how to internalize that anger, at least for now. I can keep it compartmentalized until there’s a way for me to deal with it. I spend a lot of time in the woods these days, on the streams. The equivalant of going to church for me. It helps. But it doesn’t eliminate the anger. That’s going to be there for quite some time, I suspect.

But really, things seem to have settled to a much calmer state for now. We all know now that Mom isn’t going to die within the next couple of weeks. We know that we have time, and that we can spend that time doing things we need to do together, saying the things we need to say.

I’ve thought about this for a few weeks now, and I’ve decided that with my next post, I’m going to begin posting memories. Just little anecdotes about my Mom. I’d like to post mostly things that just concern incidents that happened with just her and I. Things that other people in the family may not be aware of. Mostly funny things, some poignant, but all of them precious memories for me. I want to share those memories. I know that there are some family members who read this blog, even though they don’t comment. (I’m the black sheep of the family, remember.) I don’t expect everyone to comment, I just want these things here for others to read about. I want people to know my mother as I know her. To others, she is sister, aunt, cousin, grandmother, etc. To me she is Mom, and I want people to see her as I see her. So I’ll start that process with my next post.

For now though, I’m just happy that things don’t seem so dire, so depressing to all of us. The undercurrent of sadness still exists, that’s true. But it’s not such a cutting sadness now. It’s more of a quiet sadness, knowing that we’re taking time to settle everything, to make our feelings known to each other in ways that we never have before.

Actually, it’s a healthy kind of sadness…