One Hour Earlier: "Are you excited about going back to church?" I ask my daughters as we drive to their Gammy's house to pick her up for our return to Journey Church. I have found myself looking forward to it all week. When we arrive, our hopes of making it to the early service are shattered by the realization that mom is sick. Really sick. Coughing. Vomiting. Pitiful. "I still want to go, baby, we are just going to have to wait for the second service". GREAT! That will provide just enough time for my girls to get filthy. I started to feel a little aggravated. I am looking at Mom's frail little body. The Dr had scolded her about her weight loss. 20lbs in a month won't work. I have been even harder on her about the eating than I am about the smoking. I feel guilty about my constant nagging. But I don't know if, in good conscience, I can just let it go. I eat all the time even though I'm not hungry....Why can't she? And what is this cough? She has been sounding so much better. She has been trying so hard to slack off on her smoking. For those of you judging--please stop. She is losing her dad. She has found out disturbing news about her OWN life. And we, her kids, are freaking falling apart. Most people don't lay down a 30 year habit in a day. It can happen, but not easily. Stress and trying to quit smoking DO NOT go hand in hand. She is trying, so if you are thinking negative about her--please stop. In all actuality, we have been told that IF she did quit, at this point, the cancer isn't going away. To an addict, that's like an open invitation to keep "using". What I worry about is the fact that smoking can increase the risk of colds, which is not something she needs in her fragile state.
"What did you eat last night mom?" I asked as I combed and tried to disguise her thinning hair, hoping for an acceptable answer. "I ate some watermelon. It was the only thing that sounded good to me." I felt anger in my chest. I felt my heart begin to race. "Watermelon? Really?" All the while, Neva and Nori are running around looking for anything and everything that will aid them in their attempt to get dirty. The phone rang. It was my aunt and she needed to talk to mama regarding Papaw. He has had 3 seizures this morning. I knew this would be a lengthy conversation, so I wasn't surprised when I saw mom walk out to sit on the porch. "Great. We are going to be late". Even more anxiety building up inside me as I think about my grandfather. Luckily, she had managed to throw some clothes on, so maybe we could leave as soon as the conversation ended. I stuck my head out the door hoping to rush her up, and that's when I saw it. Her cigarette. I was so furious. I had to comment. I just had to. She has been coughing all morning. Why add fuel to the fire? "I'm sick of seeing you smoke." I barked and stomped inside. She avoided my comment and ended the conversation with her sister. I got the girls and put them in their car seats.
Of course, this is when Neva announces "I've got to potty". As I am carrying her back inside, mom is walking to the car. We purposefully avoid eye contact. I am raging on the inside. I am walking Neva to the rest room, when I hear Ronnie, my brother "You know you made her cry. You're going to have to live with that on your conscience." "I don't care" I responded. "If saying that made her cry, then I will make her cry everyday!" "It's your conscience" he retaliated. I found myself wondering "who DOES have the better conscience? The person who nags and fights and taints quality time in an attempt to stop a harmful behavior and gain additional time OR the person who goes along with the harmful behavior to keep the remaining time positive?" I carried Neva to the car. I felt unlike I have ever felt in my life. I felt a volcano of anger inside me. I felt as though I was going to cry. I felt like I was going to scream. I felt like I needed to hit something. It was building, building and BUILDING. I HAD to say something. I HAD to. I aggressively strapped Neva into her seat and slammed the door. I plopped down in my driver seat and snapped "You're crying??!! Because of what I said?? How about when I cry? I can't take this!" Neva begins to cry. Nori is stunned by my tone. There is a voice in my head saying "Stop it. stop it, Nikki. Now is not the time." But I didn't listen. "They are killing you!! You're killing yourself!!! They've already killed you!!! You don't even care! I don't care anymore! I'm done caring! It's got me nowhere! I'm so sick of this! I can't take it anymore! I cant take it!" I hit my steering wheel with anger. The sting of my hand hitting my car snaps me back into reality. Then I realize my mom is crying. My daughters are crying. I can't believe what I've done. Who am I? Mom, quietly sniffling and wiping her tears, begins to console the girls while I continue to cry and feel the regret creeping into my heart. I can't stop wondering "what has happened to me?"
We ride silently to the church. I took Nori to the nursery, she was fine. Neva however, my smart little "analyzer" wanted to stay with us. I agreed. What a traumatic morning for that baby. For us all. We were greeted by the same smiling faces from last week and even more.We took our seats and the music began. Neva seemed to really enjoy it. "Thank goodness" I thought, hoping my temper tantrum hasn't scarred her for life. Brother Robby spoke about perseverance. He spoke about overcoming obstacles and adversities and standing strong for something. The service was beautiful and once again, seemed like it was meant for me. About halfway through, mom leaned over and whispered "I'm sorry. I love you", She kissed my cheek and held my hand the remainder of the service. Meanwhile, that sad little look on Neva's face faded and was replaced with curiosity. We had to urge her to stay in her seat and use her "whisper voice".
I later apologized to mom, not for what I said, but for the delivery. I also apologized to my girls. I worry about her all the time. Her appetite. Her weight. Her cough. Her smoking. Her medicine. Her energy. Her sleeping habits. Her temperature. I worry about my girls. I feel guilty ALL the time. I guess it all became overwhelming. I know today is not the last of the obstacles we will face. I DO sometimes feel like just giving up. But I won't. I will continue to work and fight and strive for the day they tell us my mom is okay. Today was just another bump in a very long and twisted road.
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