The Weekend

The weekend has arrived, I usually look forward to this time, no work and just the family, stay up later, sleep in longer. Not this weekend though, it is early Saturday morning and I get myself ready to go pick up my Mom. We then start the hour and half drive to my brother’s house to meet up with my Dad. Something to keep in mind both Len and our father lived in the same house. Len was on the main floor my father lived below.

It is the first time I have seen my mom since the day of Len’s death. We have talked daily but it still comes as a shock, just how quickly she has diminished. She looks smaller, older and I feel this sense of protection. It is like we have reversed roles and I am the mother and she is the child. We talk about nothing important while driving there, she tells me what she ate that day. I nod and make confirmation sounds but really I just don’t care. I’m not really listening. I want this whole day to be over and done with and it’s only 10:00 am.

As we get closer to the house I can feel my anxiety level rising. I’m nervous to see my dad and be in the house surrounded by all of Lens stuff. Though my parents are on speaking terms and get along fairly well there is still over 30 year of divorce and many years were he was not there for us. I have maintained a relationship with my father over the past 15 years, but that has not been the case for my siblings or my mother. The relationship with Len and his father is only a few years old and has had moments of intense stress for both of them. As we ring the doorbell all I want is to find a sandbox and bury my head. I try to stand behind my mom but since she is now what appears to me to be half the size she was, that’s not really working so well.

The three of us are in the living room and I can sense that Dad is just as nervous with this whole thing. My mom wont sit down, looking, touching, and smelling Len everywhere. It’s killing me to watch this as I can only imagine what she is going through. I wonder if I would I be able to cope half as well if it was one of my children. Dad is looking lost and really not so sure just what to do. He’s making nervous chat, just filling up the air with words. I am only half listening, my mother is in her own world. Everything about this moment just sucks. What I would love right now is a drink, a big glass, some ice and a massive bottle of white wine would go down perfect.