Page 45 of Burdens
My mother passed away ten years ago, and the anger had tempered, but the freshness of the blow hadn’t. I used to think that the further I got away from it, the less it would hurt.
That the pain would disappear and I wouldn’t have to feel this constant pressure inside my chest that never went away, the one that just lingered and threatened to take over the moment you gave it an ajar opening.
And when the pain took over, it felt worse than the day that it’d happened.
Dedifferentiated chondrosarcoma.
I had no idea what those two words meant, but I knew one thing. Those two single words took away one of the most important people in my life.
Two words.
Against one life.
I stood at the edge of the cliff and looked down at the angry waves crashing against the rocks below that matched my thundering heartbeat. Cold wind whipped through my clothes, making the fabric snap against my skin.
I welcomed it.
It was the only thing that seemed to tether me to reality at the moment.
I didn’t remember how much time had passed since I’d learned the news or how I’d gotten here because it seemed as if the concept of anything but those two words had vanished the moment I’d gottenthecall.
My mother had died a few hours ago from a cancer I never knew about. She’d never told me. I had to learn it from a stranger who informed me she’d passed away peacefully in her sleep at the hospice she’d been admitted to three weeks ago.
I’d even spoken to her not too long ago and she didn’t tell me.
She didn’t tell me.
Why?
Why didn’t she tell me?
Why didn’t she let me say goodbye?
Why didn’t she let me come take care of her?
Why? Why? Why….
I felt lost.
And scared.
And angry.
And lost.
She was my person. And I’d lost her.
I screamed, the sound so guttural it made me drop to my haunches, my fingers gripping my hair. How was this possible? Why did this happen? She wasn’t supposed to leave me.
I knew realistically this day would eventually come, but I always thought it would be so far in the future that I’d be better equipped for it. If there’s even such a thing as being ready enough to lose your mother.
I always thought I’d at least get to spend her last few moments by her side, that I’d get to say goodbye and give her the peace she deserved.
I waited for the tears to come, but all I could feel was the intense tightening of an iron fist around my heart, branding it with irreparable scars.
I couldn’t breathe.
My vision became blurry and I closed my eyes.
