contemplation of my mother's illness

[thejunipertree]

I watched Six Feet Under this evening, the season finale, and a line in it spoken by the mother made me start crying.

"You always tried to protect me, but I'm supposed to be protecting /you./"

I keep thinking about my mom lately.
And thinking about what would happen if this illness led to something that would mean the end of her life.

I don't want to say the actual words. But, that's what I'm thinking about.

I want to protect her.
And I know that I can't.

It hit me the other night, hard. I was standing there, doing random shit like I normally do, and the thought crossed my mind. What happens if things aren't going to be "okay" like everyone's been reassuring me?

And it was like a gut punch. Hard, painful. I don't know what I'd do without her. Sure, she's crazy and annoying and slowly turning into a hermit. But. She's my fucking mother! And I love her more than I could possibly put into words.

I want to protect her.
And I know that I can't.

I lie in bed and think about all the people I'd have to call. And I remember the day that I took her phone book and wrote down all the phone numbers of family members and family friends who would have to be notified if something happened. And I lie there and know, just /know/ deep down in the pit of my stomach that if something were to happen, it would fall on my shoulders to orchestrate everything.

And I wonder how I would tell that asshole who shares my genes (the older one, not Todd. He's only an asshole when he won't stop playing Diablo long enough for me to check my mail). And what he would say to me.

I wonder about how I'd take it. And what life would be like, life in this apartment, without her. How I would manage, money wise, without her here.

It fucking terrifies me, on so many misbegotten levels.

I want to protect her.
And I know that I can't.

I remember two years ago, when I was getting ready to board a plane bound for London the look on her face when they called my boarding number. How she turned to me, trying so hard not to cry. And how her voice cracked when she said "I wasn't going to cry, damnit." And I remember the two times she and I stopped speaking for months on end over stupid shit. And how it tore me apart to have these ugly feelings between us.

I remember being five years old and being swung around in her arms. And I remember being twenty five and sobbing my heart out against her because I was scared and hurt and unsure of where my life was going to go.


I want to protect her.
And I know that I can't.

I walk around with the strong Tara face on, leaving the room when I have to cry. I smile at her and tell her that I'll drive her to her doctor's appointment on the 21st. I tell her that everything's going to be okay.

Everyone has told me that this is such a routine procedure and that so-and-so had it and it all turned out just /fine./ But, she's been dropping weight so quickly and can't eat and has no energy and sleeps all the goddamn time. And she's in so much pain.

I want to protect her.

God.

Please? Just this fucking once. Just please please please let everything be okay.

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