Saturday, February 25, 2006

Day 4 - Last Rites

Writer's Note: Read Day 1, Day 2, and Day 3 to catch up.
On a personal note, there's something to be said for keeping everything bottled up. I don't think I would ever do something like this again. It's starting to wear me down.


I spent the previous night in my childhood room and I have decided if I ever have a little girl someday I will never buy her a day bed to sleep on. It was uncomfortable as hell.

Work is a distant memory. After calling my boss the day before to let him know I wasn't going to be back for a while I wiped my hands of all other responsibility and got down to the business of full-time nurse and gate keeper to Mom. The people keep coming, and if they don't show up unannounced they call to get updates, so between answering the door and answering the phone I feel like I never get a chance to sit down. Its just as well. Constant activity is going to get me through this. The few times I do get to sit quietly I'm usually paying my Mom's bills and settling affairs with her lawyer.

Its strange how mundane tasks can keep your mind off of what's really happening. I can get so caught up in greeting guests, paying bills, and tidying the house that I can almost lose myself in the monotony. Until the Priest comes to give Last Rites, then it all comes crashing back. Mom, somehow, gathered up what little strength she had to concentrate on what the Priest was saying. She was always a devout Catholic, working for almost two decades as the secretary for the Catholic elementary school that my sister and I attended. Even after all of the scandals that the Church was involved in - the one she belonged to included - she still maintained her Faith. I always admired that.

The Priest leaves and Mom, although exhausted, looks happy and peaceful. This is the last time we'll see any real emotion from her.


Mom101 said...

I commend you: I don't know that I could be quite so eloquent reliving such an experience. Hope writing it gives you a dose of therapy and, eventually, a little perspective on how far you've come.

Thanks for stopping by my blog - hope I provided a welcome respite from the tough stuff. Come back any time.

Anonymous said...

This was such a beautifully written series of posts. I wish that I had written something down when my father passed away 18 years ago. I realize now that it would have helped me through the healing process.

Thanks for visiting my blog. I'll be sending you the photo of the orphaned puppy with a wooden leg. And my apologies for the Cuppycake Gumdrop link, but seriously, isn't it JUST THE BEST?