9:39 p.m. - Wednesday, Jun. 16, 2010
Rose K
"Where's mother?"
"She's right here."
He reaches for his mother's hand . . .and she pulls away. Strangers, both.
Meanwhile . . .
I let something so small become so big. Terrified to answer the phone. It rings and rings and rings . . .
My body wants to release this. I want to fall into a trembling ball on the floor and cry. The darkness of the aging soul . . .the lonliness . . .how hard it must be for my mother. So much like me . . .not wanting to talk about her feelings, just facts. Just reports on her brother and mother . . .dying together as they had lived together. And me, lump in my throat . . ."Mm hmm . . .mm hmm . . .wow . . .crazy . . .mm hmm."
Multitasking, if you can believe my soul is so barren. Texting my apologies to a friend for backing out of promise.
I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.
Tell me it's OK. Hug me. Remind me I'm alive. Maybe you would if I could tell you what's in my head. But I can't. So I'm alone.
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