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(no subject)
The floor has opened and threatened to swallow me whole.
The situation is too familiar to ones previous.
Mom has to think of more creative ways of telling me these things.
2002
I sit up in bed after The Call. Mom is sitting at the edge of my bed, stroking my hair back.
"She went in her sleep."
Nana had died
2003
I sat in our large green chair in the living room. Mom was next to me, stroking my hair.
"His organs started failing. He was bleeding internally. There wasn't anything they could do."
Papa was gone.
2007
Despite everything, i am not deaf. I closed the door so not to hear the murmurings of my mother on the phone.
'hospice'
'you've been perfect...'
I sat on my bed and waited. Mom came up, and she knew. She sat on the bed with me, and moved to stroke my hair. I nearly pulled back. To stroke my hair, as with the past years, meant it was final. This wasn't final. The part of me that denied my 'agnostic-ness' knew the woman i called my 'angel' was going to be here forever. She battled cancer and hell, and still smiled and fussed ver everyone else.
But my mother smoothed my hair.
'We're going to make her as comfortable as possible'
No, this doesn't fit into the story of my life. Mom tells me, "Nobody lives forever." Like i don't know that.
I just heard mom on the phone speaking to Howie (The subject of this post, Mima's,husband) and she laughed and said, "These doctors don't know Mima, that's for sure!"
This story ain't over until the last hippo has bellowed
The situation is too familiar to ones previous.
Mom has to think of more creative ways of telling me these things.
2002
I sit up in bed after The Call. Mom is sitting at the edge of my bed, stroking my hair back.
"She went in her sleep."
Nana had died
2003
I sat in our large green chair in the living room. Mom was next to me, stroking my hair.
"His organs started failing. He was bleeding internally. There wasn't anything they could do."
Papa was gone.
2007
Despite everything, i am not deaf. I closed the door so not to hear the murmurings of my mother on the phone.
'hospice'
'you've been perfect...'
I sat on my bed and waited. Mom came up, and she knew. She sat on the bed with me, and moved to stroke my hair. I nearly pulled back. To stroke my hair, as with the past years, meant it was final. This wasn't final. The part of me that denied my 'agnostic-ness' knew the woman i called my 'angel' was going to be here forever. She battled cancer and hell, and still smiled and fussed ver everyone else.
But my mother smoothed my hair.
'We're going to make her as comfortable as possible'
No, this doesn't fit into the story of my life. Mom tells me, "Nobody lives forever." Like i don't know that.
I just heard mom on the phone speaking to Howie (The subject of this post, Mima's,husband) and she laughed and said, "These doctors don't know Mima, that's for sure!"
This story ain't over until the last hippo has bellowed
no subject
so lets gag the motherfucker.
i lurve you dude