Dealing with Dad's Sister 1

The weekend came - as did my sister. She and I talked about how dad had changed. I noticed the transition less, now that I was visiting every day. She remarked on how tired, grey, and haunted he looked. She held mom - and then took dad's other side to hold his hand. I headed home, fixed something for her to eat, and waited for her to arrive. We ate together, visited, changed to our bed-clothes, and lay together in mom and dad's bed, holding one another.

"Do you think we have another week?" she asked, quietly.

"I don't know," I said. "You're more aware of the changes now. I'm not noticing them as much but I don't want to stop visiting just so that I can get a more accurate picture."

"Mom looks more and more tired," she said.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Do you give her hugs when you visit?" she asked.

"No," I said, "we never really ..."

"I know," she said, "but ... I think it would help ... ya know?"

"Yeah, okay," I said. "I will. I know what you're saying. It's almost like she's pouring hope into dad and draining herself to do it."

"Exactly."

Her arms were around me again. She gave me a squeeze. It lasted a long time.

"It's not fair," she said.

I could hear the tears in the tone of her voice.

"It's absolute bullshit," I said.

"Language," she sob-laughed, trying to sound like mom.

I sob-laughed as well.

I didn't even realize that we'd fallen asleep until we woke up.

I fixed us breakfast and we headed for the hospital - riding together. We stayed the day - both making sure to hug mom, squeeze dad's hand, and kiss his cheek.

Mom winked at us. Our actions had been too well-coordinated - and she was sharp enough to catch it. I snuck in behind her and wrapped my arms around her as she continued to stand and hold dad's hand. She put her hand on my hands - clasped over her tummy - and gave them a squeeze.

"I love you, baby boy," she purred.

My eyes threatened to explode into a geyser of tears so I blinked rapidly, swallowed hard, and squeezed her a little more. She wrapped her free arm around my head and pulled me around beside her.

After a half-hour, my legs were going stiff. I had no idea how she stood there - hour after hour - holding dad's hand.

Sis and I tried to talk her into going to the cafeteria. She told us that she'd have something delivered. I didn't believe her but - when dad's food arrived - there was a plate for her as well. She kissed my temple and told me to take Heather to get something to eat.

~~~

After lunch, Heather took my place at mom's side. We traded back and forth every hour after that - until the call came for visitors to go home.

I opened the car door for her to climb in and then dropped into my seat.

"You wanna grab drive-thru on the way home?" I asked.

"I don't need to eat," she said.

"Need something ...," I said.

"Shakes and fries from Mickey D's?" she asked, smiling.

"Shake machine's probably broken," I replied, laughing.

"If it is, that's our sign that we're not supposed to eat," she shot back.

I moaned, guessing that my chances were probably 20/80.

For all that was going wrong in my life, the shake machine was actually working, clean, and turned on. We pulled into a parking space and dipped our fries into our shakes and giggled like we were teenagers again.

I think it was the first time I'd smiled in weeks.

We got home, brushed our teeth, and climbed into bed. Her chin was resting on my shoulder too hard and her arms were restricting my ability to move - but I wasn't going to say a thing.

~~~

Sunday passed much the same way that Saturday had.

None of us were attending services. The minister and the elders had been to visit dad. They always came when I was gone. It was just as well. I'd probably say something that I'd regret. It wasn't their faults but that didn't mean that I wouldn't lash out. I didn't trust myself not to. I'd prayed only once since I'd first visited the hospital.

The prayer had - actually - been about what to do with the burden of dealing with dad's sister - not with his cancer. I believed God could do anything but I didn't believe He did miracles just for shits and giggles. In my opinion, dad's picture had probably been on the Employee of the Month board in Heaven several times - but that didn't mean that I'd see the Man Upstairs intervene.

I didn't get a lightning strike to tell me not to fuck Aunt Jackie so I figured - if dad had quietly carried this burden all of this time - it was either one of those "the Lord works in mysterious ways" things - or he just didn't give a shit.

~~~

The work-day passed and I was back at dad's side. His eyes were open. He held his hand out to me.

Shit!

Two ways this goes: he's actually getting better - or it's that last burst of energy before the end.

I texted Heather and asked her if she wanted to talk to him. She did.

I stood next to dad so that she could see us both. We visited with him for over an hour before he got tired. We laughed at stories of stupid things we'd done when we were little.

Finally, he said he was tired and nodded off. I held his hand and looked at my sister's face. I think I was crying before she was. Neither of us made any sounds - and mom didn't give us away. She mouthed "thank you" to me and closed the call.

When the nightly visitor warning came, I gave dad's fingers one last squeeze, walked around, hugged and kissed mom, and headed home.

I didn't bother to eat.

My toothpaste tasted like ashes to me.

I crawled into mom and dad's bed. I laid there for an hour - unable to sleep - and finally just screamed at Heaven.

Somewhere in the middle of those screams, I fell asleep.

I stopped by the hospital, on the way to work.

I came off of the elevator to see a crash-cart coming towards me with several nurses around it. I hurried towards dad's room.

I found my mother with tears streaming down her face, holding his hand, as the doctor scribbled his time of death on his chart.

I stood beside mom and waited for her to see me.

When she did, she collapsed into my arms. I hugged her tightly to keep her from falling to the floor.

When they came to get him, she stood on her own, leaned over him, and kissed his lips - and then his brow. She stood beside me and we put an arm around each other and stood out of the way.

Once they were gone, she stumbled to the chair and sat down - deflating like a balloon.

I texted Heather first - and then my boss. Heather sent me back an emoji of a broken heart. The response from my boss was for me to take as much time as I needed.

~~~

We arrived at the hospital parking lot and mom looked around - trying to remember where she had parked. We finally got into my car and drove around until we found it. I followed her home.

She went to her room, showered, changed her clothes, and came out with a big binder.

At that point, I just followed her orders as she rattled them off. I have no clue how many phone calls I made or who I talked to. I asked for whoever she told me to talk to, told them that dad had passed, and then said "goodbye".

Hours passed like this.

I helped her make lunch, we ate, and then we went back to it again.

Sometime that afternoon, my sister appeared and mom was able to delegate twice as quickly. At some point, Heather looked at me and decided that I was dead to the world and needed a change of scenery. She and mom decided on what food they wanted. I called it in and drove to get it, ferrying it back to the house. We stopped, ate together, and went back to working through mom's task list. I was much more alert after the break and the food.

At bedtime, Heather and I got ready in the guest bathroom while mom used hers. We climbed into bed with mom, hugging her between us. She kissed us both and pulled us closer, telling us how much she loved us.

~~~

The next day was spent talking to the funeral home and making all of those arrangements.

Mom was the commander in chief and Heather and I just did as we were ordered - so did everyone else that we encountered. Mom somehow knew everything that needed to be done, every person that needed to be talked to, every item that needed to be ordered, and every arrangement that needed to be made.

At the end of the night, we clung to each other, once again. I don't know how long the two of them stayed awake, but I was exhausted and was out almost as soon as I got my squeeze and kiss.

~~~

The next day was spent tracking down pictures and videos.

We cried, we laughed, we held each other, we talked bad about a few relatives, and then we laughed so hard that my sides hurt. I had never seen so many baby pictures in my life!

We got everything handed off to the funeral person and took mom out for dinner. Heather sat beside mom and I sat across from her.

"Thank you, both, for helping me through this," mom said.

I didn't trust myself to speak and just nodded. Heather gave her a squeeze.

~~~

Friday was spent getting almost nothing done. We ate an early dinner, dressed for the wake, and headed to the church.

Mom was like a congressman running for office - shaking hands, introducing my sister and I to people we didn't remember or know (and would probably never see again), and giving out hugs and kisses.

A few cousins had come to town - a couple of the ones we liked - and one or two we'd hoped would make excuses and not bother showing up. Why do THOSE cousins never seem to have anything else to do?

~~~

Saturday, we slept in a little, grabbed a quick breakfast, and headed to the church for the funeral.

I brought a whole box of tissues with us - but they weren't enough. We let everyone who wanted to say something nice about dad have a chance to speak. Even before the minister gave his remarks, I was looking for more nose-rags. One of the elders waved a box at me and I took them with a nod of thanks and headed back to our row.

The preacher gave dad a lovely memorial - comparing dad's selfless service and humility to Jesus'. I wanted to be angry at God but the minister's words only served to remind me of every moment dad had taken me with him to help with this or that.

At the close, the well-wishers streamed by and I was hugged and kissed so many times that it all became a blur. We piled into the car and followed the hearse to the cemetery.

I remember watching the traffic that we passed on the road - watching people going about their lives - and wondering how the world could just continue on - as if nothing had happened - as if none of this mattered.

I caught myself growling until I thought about the times I'd seen a funeral coming and hurried through a traffic light so that I wouldn't have to wait on them.

In some ways, I was just a big hypocrite.

The grave-side remarks were short, I grabbed roses for mom and my sister, and we greeted a few people who weren't coming back to the church for potato salad.

We climbed into the car and headed towards the church. We were halfway there before I realized that one of my cousins was driving us. I'd been so distracted that I hadn't even given a thought to who was navigating.

"Thanks for driving us, Cuz," I said.

"He was a great man," he said, his chin quivering a little before he was able to shrug it off.

"One of the best," I agreed.

Thankfully, food helped ease the tears and the guilt. We visited with family and friends we hadn't seen in forever, took some pictures, and collected a few more hugs and kisses.

Mom took care of answering all of the questions about what needed to go where at the end of the day, and then we piled into the car, and I loosened my tie and steered us towards home.

We changed our clothes and piled onto the couch with mom in the middle. She made us throw our feet over the arms of the sofa and lay our heads in her lap so that she could play with our hair and talk to us. I felt like I was 10 again. It was wonderful - and a great release for the stress that I still had bottled up inside.

"Thanks you guys," mom said.

"I love you," the two of us chorused.

"You know I'm going to depend on you two a little more now," she said.

"Whatever you need, mommy," Heather promised.

"I'll be here, mom," I said.

"I've been thinking about moving back," Heather said.

"No," mom told her. "Don't give up that good job."

"It's not that good, mom," she sighed.

"Don't you have that friend you've been seeing?" mom asked.

My sister growled and said, "Didn't bother showing up, did he?"

Mom leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Don't be too harsh," she warned.

"Pretty sure it's over, mom," she said. "If I had doubts before ..."

"You've got us, Sis," I said.

"Thanks, Pipsqueak," she said, snickering.

I snarled, a little angry that she'd reverted to calling me by that moniker again after this long.

"I love you, too, Jackass," I grinned.

"Language," mom said.

Heather echoed her warning a half-second later and we laughed together.

We sat there for quite a while, finally called in a pizza, and then played some board games.

At bedtime, we cuddled in next to mom and went to sleep.

The next morning, mom had us up early to get ready for church.

I tried not to complain. I'd missed so many weeks that they'd probably decided I wasn't coming back.

I don't remember much of the service. We got a few more condolences, hugs, and offers to bring us food before we got out of there.

We grabbed lunch out and then went home to collapse into a pile on the couch again after changing into more comfortable clothes.

We started the fireplace and had cocoa just because Heather said she wanted to. Mom even had the little marshmallows. It was - honestly - very relaxing. We sat, held each other, and watched the simulated flames on the gas-insert.

Midafternoon, mom and I walked Heather to the door and gave her hugs and kisses as she headed back for her apartment - so that she'd be rested for work in the morning.

Mom and I returned to the fire and were still sitting there, vegging-out, when Heather texted that she'd made it safely home.

We took our mugs to the sink, brushed our teeth, and then I realized that I should probably move back into my room - which was full of boxes.

I stepped up to the doorway of mom's room - not mom and dad's room - but mom's room. I started to tell her "goodnight" but she held out her hand for me to join her.

I walked over to her and she wrapped her arms around me.

"Your room is a mess," she said. "I'm not ready to sleep in this bed alone. Can you just lay beside me?"

"I can do whatever you need, mom," I said.

She brushed a thumb across my cheek and kissed the corner of my mouth.

"I'll try to adjust quickly so you won't have to babysit me," she said.

"Mom!" I gasped. "You're not inconveniencing me. I don't want to intrude or make demands but I don't think I'd be comfortable sleeping anywhere else."

"You don't usually have company ..." she suggested.

"I've slept in this bed since I moved back. I've shared it with Aunt Jackie for one night - and with my sister every weekend since - although we had more clothes on than me and Aunt Jackie did."

Mom started snickering which turned into laughing and soon we were both chortling uncontrollably.

"Sorry," I said.

"Thanks, baby," she said. "I actually really needed that. You don't mind?"

"Hell, no!" I said.

"Language," she chided - but with a goofy grin on her face.

I gave her a quick peck on the lips, yanked the covers back, and dove into bed. She laughed, killed the light, and crawled in beside me.

"Me spooning you or you behind me?" I asked.

"Heather usually sleeps behind you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I will as well then," she replied.

Mom's arms were just as comfortable as my sister's and - despite the trauma of the last few days - I was quickly asleep.

~~~

Mom was staring at the ceiling when my alarm went off. I texted my boss that I was going to need another day. I lay on my back beside her and waited for her to speak.

"I feel like I have no energy," she complained.

"Come on," I said.

I got her up, got her dressed, took her to breakfast, dragged her off to a pickleball court and made her play a few games, went for a drive, stopped for lunch, and then drove around Sunset Cliffs to admire the rich people's houses - before heading home.

"Thanks, honey," she said, as we pulled into the drive.

She reached over, grabbed my chin, and gave me a peck on the corner of my mouth.

"If you're like me, you're going to have to jump back into your routine - just to keep from overthinking it."

"I don't want people to think I'm not mourning," she said.

"Everybody mourns differently and fuck them," I growled.

"Henry!" she gasped.

"Seriously, mom," I said. "If they have nothing better to do than to worry about whether or not you're missing dad, they can take a long walk off of a short pier."

She took my hand and squeezed it.

"Come on," I said, opening the car door.

She got out as well and soon we were in front of the fireplace again, in our bedclothes, sipping hot chocolate.

"Your dad was my routine," she said, after a while.

"Then make me your routine if you need to," I said, "not that I need a mother holding my hand all of the time."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Okay," she said, leaning her head against my shoulder.

~~~

The next morning, breakfast was ready when I woke up, I ate, accepted the sack-lunch she had made, gave her a hug and a kiss, and headed for work.

When I got home, I got a hug and a kiss and went to change my clothes to sit down to eat the dinner she had prepared.

After that, we did some paperwork, played a couple games, and sat in front of the fire again.

"Jackie should be back in a few days," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "Should I clear things up in my room?"

"No!" she gasped, before lightening her tone. "No. I think she'll be more comfortable if we change as little as possible."

I turned to her. I took her face in my palms and gave her a light peck on the lips.

"Dad said that you might need or want to watch," I told her.

"No ...," she said.

"Listen," I said. "I'm just telling you to do what you're comfortable with - okay? You're not going to bother me - whatever you decide to do."

"It wouldn't be appropriate ...," she said.

"What dad did was appropriate? What I'm doing is appropriate?" I asked.

"You're my son ...," she objected.

"Mom," I said. "This is you and me and nobody else. Did you love my father?"

"More than life itself," she said, beginning to tear up.

I grabbed her face and gave her another peck - drawing her eyes back to me.

"Do you want to know what he told me?" I asked.

She was silent - but her eyes said she was curious.

"He basically told me that you deserved whatever happiness you could let yourself enjoy," I told her. "Do you know what?"

"What?" she asked.

"I promised my father that I would do absolutely ANYTHING to show you how much your unfailing love meant to him."

The tears were flowing now - in both of our eyes.

"I assure you that I intend to keep the promise that I made to my father - your husband - and Aunt Jackie's lover. You can damned well do whatever the hell you want - no matter what it is - and I will support and encourage you 100% because I loved my father and he asked me to honor his wishes."

Her arms went around my neck and the kiss she gave me had my father's name written all over it. I let her - and then I felt guilty for not kissing her back - because I was sure he would have wanted me to.

She placed her forehead against mine and looked into my eyes.

"I loved him and I love you and this is ... I'll need time," she said.

"And that's just one more reason why he loved you - because you cared so much. You cared more about him than he thought he deserved."