Each time I wake, I replay the fragments of the dreams I’ve had. As noon approaches, I decide to get out of bed and take a shower. A long, hot shower will improve my mood a bit, I think.
I step into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes at the door and start running the water. Once the water is hot and steamy, I step in and enjoy the hot flow, gradually relaxing the tension in my muscles. A piping hot shower almost always makes me feel better. I must have been in for longer than I thought, because my feet have started to prune. I get out and grab a large towel for my body and a small towel for my head, wrapping myself up snugly. I feel a little better. However, I’m not really thinking about anything that will upset me. My mind is blank.
I step up to the sink. The mirror is covered with steam. I put my hand against the glass, about to wipe the steam away. Then I stop myself. I don’t want to see my reflection. I’m not sure why, I just don’t.
I move on to dry and groom myself before getting dressed and going downstairs to the kitchen. My stomach is rumbling. I haven’t eaten much in the past couple days. I open the refrigerator and look over its contents. Mom always keeps more food in the housethan three people could possibly consume in a reasonable amount of time. And although my stomach is begging for me to grab something – anything – and put it in my mouth, nothing appeals to me. I grab a bottle of water and sip on it as I continue my search for food. The cabinets are full, but still nothing catches my interest. My stomach grumbles even harder. Finally, in the pantry I find a bag of pretzels and take a handful from the bag.
I sit at the kitchen table drinking my water and nibbling on my pretzels, thinking of nothing. The house is quiet with both my parents gone and there is simply nothing I want to do. I could watch television, but that might trigger a memory or a thought. Right now I am perfectly content with an empty head. Then the phone rings.
After a few rings I get up to answer it.
‘Dawn, it’s Mom. I won’t be home in time to start dinner; I’m at the hospital with Grandma.’
She sounds upset.
‘What happened?’
‘The doctors think she had a stroke. I called your dad and he’s on his way down here to wait with me.’
A sudden thought of Grandma lying in a hospital bed, and my mind comes alive with thoughts and worries. For the first time today, I am feeling something. An emotion.
‘Will she be okay?’
I wonder if I should go down to the hospital. Grandma is an eighty-seven- year-old diabetic with a bad heart. What if this is it for her?
‘She’s stable now. Just stay home and I’ll keep you posted.’
Something in Mom’s voice tells me that she isn’t so sure. Plus, I know that she would never have called Dad out of work unless it’s something very serious. Still, Iknow that Mom will call me if she thinks it’s time to say our final goodbyes.
‘I’ll be here.’
I hang up the phone and just stand still for a moment, remembering the last time I saw Grandma. It was on her birthday last November. Come to think of it, I didn’t even see her at Christmas. I was too preoccupied with Brian and Perry and skipped out on the celebration with my relatives. In hindsight, that was a lousy thing to do.
I flop onto the couch with the remote control in my hand, flipping through the channels, trying to find a show I can focus on to avoid thinking the worst about Grandma. I end up settling for reruns on a sitcom channel. Yeah, I’ve seen all these shows before, but they are still a welcome distraction.
At some point in the afternoon, I fall asleep on the couch. And I wake up to the sound of the doorbell. I sit up, confused. What day is it? What time is it? Where areMom and Dad? I rub my face, forcing myself to wake up. The doorbell sounds again. I push myself up off the couch and walk over to the front door, stopping to raise my eye to the peep hole. Standing on my porch is Brian in
I step into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes at the door and start running the water. Once the water is hot and steamy, I step in and enjoy the hot flow, gradually relaxing the tension in my muscles. A piping hot shower almost always makes me feel better. I must have been in for longer than I thought, because my feet have started to prune. I get out and grab a large towel for my body and a small towel for my head, wrapping myself up snugly. I feel a little better. However, I’m not really thinking about anything that will upset me. My mind is blank.
I step up to the sink. The mirror is covered with steam. I put my hand against the glass, about to wipe the steam away. Then I stop myself. I don’t want to see my reflection. I’m not sure why, I just don’t.
I move on to dry and groom myself before getting dressed and going downstairs to the kitchen. My stomach is rumbling. I haven’t eaten much in the past couple days. I open the refrigerator and look over its contents. Mom always keeps more food in the housethan three people could possibly consume in a reasonable amount of time. And although my stomach is begging for me to grab something – anything – and put it in my mouth, nothing appeals to me. I grab a bottle of water and sip on it as I continue my search for food. The cabinets are full, but still nothing catches my interest. My stomach grumbles even harder. Finally, in the pantry I find a bag of pretzels and take a handful from the bag.
I sit at the kitchen table drinking my water and nibbling on my pretzels, thinking of nothing. The house is quiet with both my parents gone and there is simply nothing I want to do. I could watch television, but that might trigger a memory or a thought. Right now I am perfectly content with an empty head. Then the phone rings.
After a few rings I get up to answer it.
‘Dawn, it’s Mom. I won’t be home in time to start dinner; I’m at the hospital with Grandma.’
She sounds upset.
‘What happened?’
‘The doctors think she had a stroke. I called your dad and he’s on his way down here to wait with me.’
A sudden thought of Grandma lying in a hospital bed, and my mind comes alive with thoughts and worries. For the first time today, I am feeling something. An emotion.
‘Will she be okay?’
I wonder if I should go down to the hospital. Grandma is an eighty-seven- year-old diabetic with a bad heart. What if this is it for her?
‘She’s stable now. Just stay home and I’ll keep you posted.’
Something in Mom’s voice tells me that she isn’t so sure. Plus, I know that she would never have called Dad out of work unless it’s something very serious. Still, Iknow that Mom will call me if she thinks it’s time to say our final goodbyes.
‘I’ll be here.’
I hang up the phone and just stand still for a moment, remembering the last time I saw Grandma. It was on her birthday last November. Come to think of it, I didn’t even see her at Christmas. I was too preoccupied with Brian and Perry and skipped out on the celebration with my relatives. In hindsight, that was a lousy thing to do.
I flop onto the couch with the remote control in my hand, flipping through the channels, trying to find a show I can focus on to avoid thinking the worst about Grandma. I end up settling for reruns on a sitcom channel. Yeah, I’ve seen all these shows before, but they are still a welcome distraction.
At some point in the afternoon, I fall asleep on the couch. And I wake up to the sound of the doorbell. I sit up, confused. What day is it? What time is it? Where areMom and Dad? I rub my face, forcing myself to wake up. The doorbell sounds again. I push myself up off the couch and walk over to the front door, stopping to raise my eye to the peep hole. Standing on my porch is Brian in
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