He observed his mum for a moment, there was no denying the woman was sick. She’d all but lost her rosy glow and as for those loose-fitting dresses, she might think they hid her drastic weight loss, but they didn’t. Not really. She’d been turning to skin and bone in front of his very eyes for weeks now, and no amount of fancy clothing could disguisethefact.
She had managed to hold on to one thing though, thought Dan, which was her dignity. The respect he felt was immeasurable as he wondered how she managed to handle everything with such grace and composure. He swelled with a mixture of both pride and admiration; he doubted he could do it. He’d be lucky to have even an ounce of her emotionalstrength.
‘Cup of tea?’ heasked.
He watched his mum put her pen down and reach into her pocket for herpills.
‘Just a glass of water for me, please,’shesaid.
As he grabbed a glass from the cupboard, Dan heard his mum struggling with the blister pack and, as she began to mutter, he could hear her patience decreasing by the second. Her annoyance surprised him; it was the first time she’d shown anything other than acarpe diemattitude since breaking the news. Then again, if anyone was entitled to a fit of frustration he knew itwasher.
‘No,’ said his mum. ‘Stupid, stupid,stupid.’
Dan turned just as the pack hit the ground, one of the much needed pills disappeared off and out of sight. His mum dropped to her knees in a pitiful attempt to find it and he immediately raced over to help. ‘Here, let me,’ he said. ‘You sit down. I’llgetit.’
As he took her by the arm and helped her back onto her feet she felt so light it shocked him. Her body was clearly losing the battle even if her brain continued to fight. It struck him just how close to the end they could be; Dan suddenly found himself enveloped with fear. He couldn’t lose her,notyet.
He crouched down in an attempt to locate his mother’s medication; his emotions flittered between anger and sadness. He felt angry that she was being taken away from him; angry at her for not accepting treatment and for shutting him out all these weeks, choices he didn’t think he’d ever fully understand. When it came to his sadness, it wasn’t fair that he was losing the one person who mattered more to him than anyone else. And why did she have to go like this? Why now? His mum’s death shouldn’t be for years yet and even then she should be allowed to pass away peacefully in her sleep. No one should have to gothroughthis.
Dan fought his tears; he didn’t want to imagine life without his mother. He didn’t want to think about the gaping hole she’d leave behind. Something he wouldn’t just have to endure on a day-to-day basis, there were all the events and celebrations he’d have to experience without her. Like his wedding and the birth of his children. His mum should be around to see her grandchildren grown up. For God’s sake, being a big kid himself at times, she should be around to see him finallygrowup.
He tried to pull himself together while insisting to himself that he was being selfish. She was the one who was dying for goodness sake, not him. Dan discreetly wiped his eyes and focused on his search efforts, she didn’t need to see him like this. He spotted the little white pill and reached under the dresser before rising to his feet. ‘Found it,’ he said, handingitover.
His mum gave him a grateful smile. ‘I feel like a drug addict,’ she said. ‘No, strike that.’ She indicated to the tablet resting on her palm. ‘Thanks to these, the morphine, and all the other stuff, I am a drug addict. Me, who’d have thoughtit,eh?’
Dan leaned down and kissed his mother’s forehead. ‘So what?’ he said. Everyone knew about the addictive qualities in cancer medication, but he’d rather that than the alternative suffering. ‘Does itmatter?’
His mum smiled again. ‘You’re a good son,’ she said. ‘I shall miss you more thanyouknow.’
He fetched a glass of water and after a few sips she managed to swallow her pill. ‘Better?’ heasked.
His mum nodded. ‘Ooh,’ she said, suddenly springing to life. ‘Before I forget, I have something I want toshowyou.’
Dan wondered where this burst of energy had come from, but he realised that he should have known his mother wouldn’t stay defeated for long. She’d never been one to feel sorry for herself and, whatever the circumstances, she always tried to find something positive amidst anyproblems.
‘Pass me my bag will you?’ shecarriedon.
She pointed to the shopper by the door and Dan duly went to get it. He handed it over and watched his mum pull out an, as of yet, unopened pack of photos. He rolled his eyes. Her camera may be digital but as easy as it might be downloading her snapshots onto the PC, she still preferred the hassle of getting physical copies. For her, scanning through pictures on a screen didn’t give her memories the respect that they deserved. Only a proper photo albumdidthat.
He watched her rip openthepack.
‘My visit to Amsterdam,’shesaid.
His mother was clearly excited to show him what she and Missy had gotten up to, Dan tried to summon up the degree of enthusiasm his mother expected. He struggled; as far as he was concerned, it was her daytrip to The Netherlands that had quickened her down turn. He’d known all along it would be too much for her body to cope with, but would she listen? As usual, the answerwasno.
‘Now this is outside theVan Gogh Museum,’ she said. ‘A lovely Dutch gentleman took the photoforus.’
Dan looked down at the two women who stood, arms linked, in front of a big glass and concrete building. Missy wasn’t what he’d imagined. Compared to his mum, in her tweed suit and with her pinned back hair, she looked quite the conservative. And healthy, he noted, taking in her voluptuous frame, a frame that contrasted, a little too much for his liking, when next to hismother’s.
‘The paintings in that place,’ said his mum. ‘Such talent. And not just by the man himself, there are also works by Guaguin, Monet, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bernard. All of themwonderful.’
She continued to chat away as she moved on to the next picture and then the next. His mum seemed to see the wonder in anything and everything and Dan couldn’t help but question how she found the stamina, both physical and emotional, to keep going. Yet again, he had to admire her. The woman lived on a diet of scrambled egg and soup as nothing else would go down properly; and she often winced when she thought no one was looking. Plus, she swigged morphine and popped pills like there was no tomorrow, yet she still managed to get through each day and usually without a single complaint. He paused in his thinking and told himself that that was the whole point. For his mum, there really was notomorrow.
She gave him a playful nudge. ‘You should take Maeve to Amsterdam one day,’ she said. ‘Or better still, to Paris. They don’t call it the City of Lovers fornothing.’
Her suggestion caught him off guard. However, despite his discomfort, Dan did his best to raise a convincing smile. ‘Maybe I will,’ he said, a statement that seemed to please his mothernoend.
As she continued to chatter, he wished he could be honest and tell her that deep down, he knew Maeve wasn’t the one for him; that he didn’t really have the desire to take the woman anywhere, let alone somewhere as romantic as Paris. He wanted to admit that he was scared; scared that if he continued to play this game, he’d end up stuck in a relationship that never had a chance from the beginning. But as she carried on animatedly explaining each photo, he knew he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let his mum think that she was deserting him, leaving him all alone in the world. What kind of sondidthat?
