1:39 a.m. - 2009-03-16
ingrid
My mom is writing a book, for Lori's grandchildren. Two boys.
I'm sitting here crying, again.. I can't believe that she was diagnosed and gone in 12 days..
Her life dream was to go to Italy.. she bought the language tapes to learn Italian and everything..
She had cancer 4 times, and the 4th killed her. But everytime she had it, it took a little more of her life away..
Her life was the definition of life sucks, and then you die. She never caught a break in her whole life.. Her mother lived with her, but her brother was always teh favourite. And he spent a month in Italy after Lori got cancer the third time and realized she wouldnt be able to ever work again..
Her favourite season was summer.. but she never got to go to the park with her grandsons.. they live in Windsor.. and somehow it never happened..
she never went to the park with them.. she never pushed them on swings or caught them as they came down the slide..
I push it down and away and i keep thinking about Lynn, and being selfish, I dont know how to help my mom through this..
And I am terrified, completely, that I will come home one day and mom's entire life will be on the table and she will be nowhere to be found..
If she gets diagnosed with liver cancer, she told me that is what would happen.. she would just leave and wander somewhere in the woods and die..
I can't stand it.. 12 days is not long enough for me to come to grips with something like that..
Life didnt turn out the way she had planned.. and two months ago mom was complaining about how draining Lori was.. because she was turning 60 and she was all depressed..
and now she's dead. And there isnt going to be a funeral or anything, except a graveside soemthing.. and Lori didnt want to be buried, so there's her brother being a total fucking dick again..
I push it down because Im scared. So pray for me, and pray that it doesnt turn out the same..
I thought for sure we would have a summer.. I thought that maybe Nikki and I could come up with a way tog et her to Italy, or at least to a backyard made to look like Italy..
She only ever wanted a couple things.. to go to Italy, and to play with her grandsons at the park.. was that so fucking much to ask? Really?
Cuz I've got MUCH bigger things to ask for.. so what hope do I have..
I can't talk to God right now.. I just dont understand what the fuck Im doing wrong, or what anyone does wrong..
Why do I feel like this all the time, why can't I walk past anyone without feeling something..
Its just, at night, I feel like Im drowning in all of it..
Why can't I feel good sober? This is fucking it, Im buying a pack tomorrow..
Its either that or a pack of razors and a new knife..
But knowing all about chemo, etc. Which is really worse?
5 months until I get to school and I can see a therapist on a regular basis.. maybe get my head screwed on straight. but no promises, because I lie all the time. And Im so good at it, I convince myself.
I miss a lot of people. I miss having a group that I felt comfortable being around.. or rather, that would acknowledge my presence.. Ive never felt comfortable until we got drunk. And even then, at somepoint I'd be sitting alone and only you would come find me and take the glass away..
Did that really happen? Me sitting in your little brothers room and you came in and found me? and we were both drunk and I was probably crying..
I think I dreamed most of my life and Im not sure if I ever sat with you in a car with you wrenching the truth out of me like a rotten tooth..
Is there a pattern here? Whenever he says I want you I need you I would kill to have you back, but its whispered and not real and hes only saying it because he thinks heknows what love is..
I crack and melt down like this.. because I cant say no, there will never ever be another person like him... no one who will hurt me before I even ask..
No one who will put up with this time and time again, unless college paid therapy can actually cure this.. or maybe a degree, and letters behind my name.
I suppose coming so close to losing my job and being a welfare whore has caused my whole sense of where I am in this life to accordion..
Hearing my mom break down and knowing that theres the possibility that we could get this diagnoses every year...
its two in the morning, and I really want a cigarette..
Can I go back? and do it all over again? Can I stop Lynn from dying, can I keep my confidence, can I stick to some kind of resolution, can I be honest without freaking everyone out?
Can I give my mom a ride to the hospital, when she's got the bag of shit tucked into her pants, and the portable IV drip.. instead of her having to bike after surgery?
Lori called me and told me that mom needed help.. I pretty much hung up on her and cried and cried and cried..
My mom lived 5 min away and I couldnt swollow my pride enough to give her a ride when she was puking from chemo and surgery and was broke and couldnt even get a cab..
Could my Dad understand that I was never ever ashamed of him, the truth is that I was ashamed of Patrick and thats why I never brought him to meet my Dad.
Antoinette's sister is in Holland, dying of lung cancer.. or she might be dead, I dont know.
She wanted to be an actress, until she realised that girls with moles dont become actresses, no matter how good their family thinks they are..
She married a Dutch boy, and has three beautiful blond haired blue eyed children.. she used to wear neon blue stockings and would celebrate my half birthday.. and she would listen, really listen to anything you had to say and it didnt matter that you were seven and babbling about bagpipes.. she listened..
And she could be dead right now.. buried in Holland and I'll never be able to bring Julianne to meet her.. and her family..
Life is so so precious, and yet I still have nightmares of killing myself and taking Jules and my mom with me..
I should call Kris tomorrow.....
