Oh, all the clever things I should say to you

[brilligspoons]

therealljidol Week 7: Bupkis

"The worst part," she tells me when we're alone for the first time since I arrived with Dad last week, "is waking up in the morning and not knowing where you are or why you're there. When you open your eyes that first time after a night's sleep, you expect to see the ceiling you've been meaning to patch for the last decade, the dresser from the bedroom set your mother bought you when you first moved into the house forty years ago, and the tape player that's been broken since you dropped it in '96."

I stay silent and try to keep still, but nursing homes make me uneasy and my leg bounces wildly from nervous energy. She doesn't comment on my restlessness like I expect her to - I wonder, briefly, if she even notices that it's happening, and whether or not she knows it's me and not my mother or sisters. I can never tell anymore.

"It's so strange." She pauses to clear her throat, the same high-pitched hem hem sound I've heard her make since I can remember. She continues, "It's so strange, the things you think about in that moment when you don't know what you've been doing for the last four or five years. Terrifying, in a word. You've got all these memories of chasing after your little brothers and helping Mother make Sunday dinner for the cousins, of going to college and then graduate school and traveling and teaching and taking care of nieces and nephews, and then - nothing. It all goes away and you're left with nothing."

She tries to turn her head to look at me, but her body is so weak at this point that she barely manages it. She gives me a wide, toothy grin (and years later I'll see the same smile on my nephew's face and clutch at my sister's arm and cry because I miss her so much) and chuckles, warm and low. "Then, of course, it all comes rushing back to you. Doctors visiting, selling the house, the first assisted living place, updating your will, the nursing home, being confined to your bed, making sure you get to see everyone one last time. I practically ran this family for half a century, you'd think I'd be a little better at managing these things."

I think she wants me to laugh, but I know if I start I won't be able to stop before I dissolve into tears.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, kid," she says after a while. "You have the whole world until then."

Comments

[fluffygremlin.livejournal.com]

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

<333

[extemporally.livejournal.com]

♥

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you, bb! <3

[shadowwolf13]

:'(

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

:D?

[magenta-girl.livejournal.com]

This really got to me! So poignant.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thanks! :)

[tamaraland.livejournal.com]

Awesome.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[whipchick.livejournal.com]

This is a lovely celebration of your grandmother - well-told!

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Actually, it's about my aunt - all of my grandparents were dead long before I came along. XD Thank you for reading and commenting!

[poppetawoppet.livejournal.com]

this kind of hit me in a weird way, and I'm not sure how to comment, except that it really resonated with me

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

I'm glad it spoke to you, in whichever way it did! Thank you for reading!

[milk-and-glass.livejournal.com]

Oh wow. This was heartbreaking and gorgeous. Whoever she is, she's wise. Reminds me a bit of my great-grandma.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much!

[solstice-singer.livejournal.com]

This is really sad. It reminds me of my great-grandma and her struggle with dementia.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you for commenting! :)

[myrna-bird.livejournal.com]

Poignant. A lesson in living to have no regrets.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[java-fiend.livejournal.com]

A really moving piece. Very well done.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I appreciate the comment. :)

[notodette.livejournal.com]

The way you capture the sameness of her throat clearing amidst how different everything must have been, and connect it to how different everything is to her as she speaks of how she is disconcerted to see it not the same really drives the point home and gives this piece so many levels.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for this feedback! :D

[basric.livejournal.com]

Nicely done. (=

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :D

[whirlgig.livejournal.com]

This is too lovely and sad for words.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I appreciate it! :)

[lawchicky.livejournal.com]

Grandmas are the best sometimes.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Ahaha, this is actually my aunt - she was the closest thing we had to a grandmother (she was much older than my father and helped raise him), so I imagine it's much the same.

Thank you for reading and commenting!

[pixie117.livejournal.com]

Very powerful and moving. It really sent shivers down my spine as I think about what it must be like. You described it all so well from her perspective, I really felt it. Nicely done.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! <3

[noodledays.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry for the pain here.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

It's weird how you never get over certain people.

Thank you for reading and commenting!

[mymisguided.livejournal.com]

Very moving - this is one of the very few entries for me where something on the shorter side doesn't need another word to still feel complete. The 4th paragraph, especially, is the strongest I think; it just grabs you. Good work.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm happy it worked for you, despite it being short. :D!

Count your blessings.

[ellakite.livejournal.com]

You may not have known what to say to her when the end was near... but at least she was willing to talk to you.

My mother refused to speak to me towards the end. I don't me she was unable to speak -- I mean she refused to speak to me.

I'd give my left arm to have a memory like yours...

(((HUG)))

Re: Count your blessings.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

I'm glad I could share it with you, then - and I'm sorry that there was so much pain at the end with your mother. :( *HUGS*

[mirrorfortress.livejournal.com]

This was lovely.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[vaudy.livejournal.com]

This is very poignant; there's a wonderful sense here of who you aunt was before her health failed, even though that's not what you describe.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[joirerson.livejournal.com]

This is so heartbreakingly good.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

<3 Thank you, bb. :)

[team-jessie.livejournal.com]

This was amazing. I mean, so much emotion packed into so few words.

Ever hear the song "Veronica" by Elvis Costello? This reminded me a lot of that song. The way the memories sometimes flash back in.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you! :D I don't think I've heard that song before (or I might have, but since I rarely listen to Elvis Costello, I've forgotten), but now I'll have to go look it up. Thanks for that!

[m-malcontent.livejournal.com]

Sad and evocative.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[karmasoup.livejournal.com]

I don't very often say amazing about a piece out here, but, this truly is.

[brilligspoons.livejournal.com]

Oh my, thank you very much!