The whole relationship thing isnt even on my list of what I want anymore…I dount I will ever marry of do the live in thing again.
I have always wanted to write, always. Since I was a very little girl, I made up stories, and later wrote them down.
Alas, I lack the self disicipline to actuall sit & write. There always seems to be other things I have to do, the laundry etc.
I have a play all written in my head, about a woman who goes to investigate the bizarre death of her mother at a secluded cabin. She is having problems with her husband, and is glad to get away from him for a few days. She stays at this cabin & as she packs up her mothers things, she comes across a journal which describes strange happenings in the cabin. She reads a bit each day, and at night, the same sort of things happen to her, so she is not sure if she dreampt them, or if they happened. Something is tantalizing her, seducing her, then begins to terrorize her. The ‘spirit’ eventually kills her, as it did her mother.
I have been batting that around my head for a year or so. I also think I should be writing about my mom, and all that is going on. My experiences might help someone else, and although it is not the sort of book I would read, it would probably be a good book.
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The only problem with that is that it is really hard to go back and relive this stuff long enough to write it down. Like when my stepdad pulled up in the car, asked me to get in, and told me in the parking lot that it was cancer. His broken voice, the guilt at having to tell me that way, and the sad hope…" They caught it early, she is going to be fine, there is all sorts of stuff they can do."
And that night, on the phone with moms sister, and I got a call from mom telling me that my brother and his wife were coming over, I wanted to know why, she wouldnt say. I clicked back to my aunt, and asked her, she told me it would be better to wait till they got there.
“Oh God! Is there something wrong with the baby” I cried (My sis-in-law is pregnant)
“No, its not the baby” she was crying now.
“Is it Mom? Is she gonna die?”
We both cried, she was so sorry to be the one to tell me, I still feel bad I put her in that spot.
Brother & sis-in-law showed up, I was calm, as they told me the details.
Then she started to tell me about the new floor Mom was on, and how great the nurses were because they dealt with cancer all the time.
A horrible realization crept over me - the cancer ward. I started screaming…its all a blur…I couldnt get any air…the room was so small!..the cancer ward! All those people are sick! …there is NO AIR!!!.. those people die!! I did NOT want my Mom around those sick people!
I started whirling around, clawing at my throat, I am gonna pass out- there is no air! I have to find a bag, anything! something to breathe in…My brother grabbed me and held me really tight, telling me to consentrate on the air going in and out, I fought him at first, then clung to him and cried.
I dont know how other people react when they get news like that, but I was ok up to the part about the new ward, then I just went bananas, I just couldnt stop screaming. The next day, I took the kids to school& daycare, and went to work- that lasted about 15 minutes! Then I went home, and tried to absorb what I had been told.
Terminal.
Inoperable.
Cancer.
The word seemed to bounce around my head like a chant…cancer cancer cancer
It took me all day to get to the hospital (it was only 10 minutes away) and I stood by the elevator and let a couple go by before I could get on, then I stood outside those doors - the cancer ward doors - and it was all I could do to force myself through. I was sure I would see these horribly sick people everywhere, I thought mom would look different. She didnt. She was still Mom,a bit beaten, but not defeated. She just looked at me and said: “I wondered how long it would take you to come here.”
I think I should get that one started. What do you guys think?
