love and life and death.

I quickly jumped into my car.  turned on the ignition. put it into drive and drove away.  drove away from my wife and daughter.  the two loves of my life.  on my way to see the other love of my life.  my Mom.  heart attack.  fear sinking in the way it sunk in thirty-five years ago.  the day we got the call that my Dad had a brain hemorrhage and was rushed to North York General Hospital.  he died.  I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.  thirty-five years later I want to say good-bye to my Mom.  the person who raised me in good times and in bad.  the woman who had to endure my troubles.  my fights.  my failures.  my lack of direction and my lack of love and lack of respect.  I WANT TO SAY GOOD-BYE ONE LAST TIME TO THE WOMAN WHO HAS ONLY WANTED LOVE BUT HAS ENDURED LONELINESS AND PAIN.  I put my pedal to the metal and drove as fast as I could.  Leonard Cohen playing loudly on the stereo.  tears flowing down my face.  in this moment nothing else mattered.  bad skin.  bad debt.  bad people.  bad rules and boring lives.  none of it mattered.  in an instant life changes.  sometimes for the better.  many times for the worse.  the clock was ticking and I was speeding.  sirens blaring.  rain pounding down.  as I drove I thought of being a kid again.  seeing my Mom’s pretty face with a cool bandana wrapped around her thick dark hair and beautifully tanned skin.  I thought of her and my Dad at the beach in Florida.  I thought of all the cool parties at our cool house with loads of wine bottles and passed out men on our cool couches.  I thought of all the soccer games she brought me too.  I thought of all the hockey games and baseball games.  I thought of all the jobs she had to do in order to put us into sports and bring us on trips.  I thought of all of her long lost friends.  I thought of all the pretty pictures with pretty smiles and pretty clothes.  I thought of her and my Dad and all of their fights and all of their laughs.  I thought of her learning how to drive and learning to laugh.  I thought of all of her walks and all of her talks.  then I thought of my Dad dying and seeing my Mom in fear.  real fear.  I thought of seeing my Mom the next day at Uncle Mac’s and Auntie Marion’s.  bawling on the couch in her blue housecoat.  I thought of my Mom’s tears.  my Mom’s hug.  I held on so tight.  didn’t want to let go.  I won’t want to let go this time either.  life is way too short.  I want to play with my Mom again.  I want to be on her lap again.  I want to go to school and have my Mom pick me up again.  I want to see her after a hockey game and go out for dinner.  I want to be in her bed again the way I was when I was seven.  I don’t want my Mom to die.  I want to say “bye”.  “MOM…DON’T DIE.  PLEASE MOM.  DON’T DIE!!!  I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOOOOO MUCH.  I AM SOOOO SORRY FOR NOT TELLING YOU ENOUGH.  YOU ARE THE GREATEST PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD.  YOU ALWAYS DID YOUR BEST FOR US EVEN THOUGH YOUR LIFE WAS SO PAINFUL!!!”
  I continued to drive.  I drove through red lights and red stop signs.  red was not going to stop me this time.  tears already flowing down my face.  I finally made it to the hospital.  I pulled into the first spot that was open.  I didn’t pay.  I quickly ran through the emergency doors the way my Mom ran through the emergency doors thirty-five years ago.  life is so bizarre.  I asked the clerk at the front desk where Mairi McKenna was and she said in the emergency room 301.  I thanked her quickly and ran as fast as I could down to 301.  I just wanted to say good-bye.  I ran and ran and ran some more.  I saw 301 and burst through the door and found my Mom laying on the bed with her eyes closed.  I jumped on the bed and shook her.  “wake up Mom.  wake up.  don’t die.  please don’t die!!!!  MOM…DON’T DIE!!!  DON’T DIE MOM…PLEASE!!!”
  I held her so tight but she wouldn’t wake up.  ever…never.  I turned around and saw my brother standing there with red eyes and red tears flowing down his red right cheek.  I stood there and didn’t move.  neither did he.  “WHY???  WHY???  WHY???”  that’s all I could say.  but there wasn’t an answer.  there never is.  such is life.  and then it ends.  not getting a chance to say “good-bye.”  ever…never.  I finally had the courage to move and took three steps toward my brother and wrapped my arms around him so tightly that he stopped breathing for a moment.  he didn’t complain.  he hugged me back.  we began to cry…and cry…and cry…and cry…and cry.  the lights then went out…so did the sound.  so did life.