Sunday Confessions: Brown
Profusely, I thanked the Hospice nurse for coming out so late to look at mom's hand which with its doubled in size look, hot to the touch, and redness I was betting on cellulitis. Again.
"That's why we're here. Thank you for calling", she smiled and handed me a script for a strong antibiotic to help get it cleared up. She took a moment, charted in her laptop, gathered her stuff, and headed to the door then stopped.
"I really do enjoy talking to your mom-and you. You ladies make everything fun, even in the not so fun times", then she exited my front door. I watched her walk down the ramp and safely get into her car. Then I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my purse so I could run to our trusty 24 hour Walgreens down the road, in the middle of the night, so we could get her started on the antibiotic and bring her relief.
Right before I handed over the script to the pharmacist I froze momentarily when I noticed the stamp that read, "Patient with Terminal Diagnosis ". He looked up after verifying she was in the system shook his head no to the offered out insurance cards I held and queried, "Hospice patient? "
I couldn't answer, so I just nodded my head.
"Give me 10 minutes and we'll have it ready then we can start getting her comfortable", he sweetly said while turning around to gather the medicine.
The first time I thought of my mom dying, I was 9. I imagined brown dirt being thrown on her casket as it slowly was lowered into the ground. I was so afraid she would die during her 1st back surgery for some reason. Clearly, she didn't. She has had a few close calls....but is still ticking thankfully.
Patient with Terminal Diagnosis.
The words didn't bother me because it was true. They bothered me because I forget that it's true...for everyone, myself included. We are born to die. But somehow in the midst of life between busy schedules and pretty planners color coded accordingly, barely balancing bills, doctor's appointments, aging parents, improbable accidents that crop up, working our lives away, birthdays, weddings and allthethings in between-we fall into routine and forget to live because we fall under this belief that tomorrow waits for us.
Tomorrow does not exist.
Every person who has lived on our planet has witnessed many of a tomorrow. But, the tomorrows eventually stopped coming for them, like they do for everyone. Because, that's just how life is created.
We think we can plan our dreams and reconciliations for another day because there's still time. But the thing about time? It's an illusion.
Too many times we have been warned that life can change in an instant. One car crash, one bad fall, one nasty infection, one being in the wrong place at the wrong time....is all it takes for a precious life to end and family and friend's lives to be shattered.
When we brought Hospice in to help take care of mom we had to fill out paperwork. It entailed everything- from if we wanted to do CPR if she suddenly collapsed to where she wants her visitation and to what kind of music she wants played at her funeral. My mom for the record doesn't want to be buried. The thought of being boxed up has no appeal to her. And brown boring dirt her send off...? The whole dust to dust thing....not her style. She'll be cremated and spread to the many places she felt most alive. And, that doesn't suprise me one bit because that is precisely my mother.
I know, you're asking yourself, 'is this one of those regurgitated pieces about remembering to smell the roses and cherish those you love?'
Yeah. Yeah, it is.
And you know why?
Because we forget from the moment we are born we are dying, but most unfortunately we forget to live.
We forget to laugh loudly because we don't want to offend others with our overwhelming joy, we tame our dreams so we don't sound silly, we bite our tongues so we don't share our innermost desire, and we forget we are only here once so we shouldn't give a damn what others think.
Plan for the future but live for today.
"Prescription is ready for Caroline...", paged overhead awakened me. Well, it lead me back to the pharmacy. I finally felt awake...like I hadn't been in quite some time and was ready to get home to mom.
And, of course, reminded that I was ready to live my life like only I can.
Today's piece was part of Sunday Confessions hosted by the talented, soon to be super organized, down-to-earth, artsy Hot Ash from More Than Cheese And Beer. Sunday Confessions are welcome to anyone to join in so if you would like to link up, please go to her blog and do so!