Friday, August 5, 2016

Continued;Part2-Tell My Mother I Love Her...

Tell My Mother I Love Her...

I couldn't think of nothing else, and still can't, in those haunting words days later when she told me what she said to the ambulance attendant, "please..tell my mother I love her."

The bile that surfaced was acrid and familiar, I choked on it Saturday night when I received her desperate phone call from the emergency ward. And I choked on it again while my oldest daughter carefully navigated us down the dark-dirt-road near the Coquihalla river from which we were camping at. Miles from home, miles from her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, gagging back that bile while her older sister and I crept silently to the highway.
 I had million things go through my head, but mostly shock. I tried in vain to keep my oldest daughter focused on the dark road and not on my emotions from which were trembling at a shrill, and reverberating throughout my body. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking at this moment, she just gripped that steering wheel and looked forward. She's a brave one, my oldest, she's been through plenty. At that moment looking at her across from the passenger seat, I was enormously proud of her and her will to keep it together. I hung onto to her quiet emotion and gained a bit of strength, then threw up at the gas station.

Our drive with our Mac Donald's coffee continues-my youngest daughter in the passenger seat-

The long mountain road comes to an end. You can either go to the left over the bridge to the nearest lake, or you can turn right and head back towards town-we chose to go right, and went a little ways, turning off into a parking lot that straddles the river and a long walkway popular to the locals.
The dark of the night hadn't come upon us yet, but you could see through the gloomy clouds that the sun was slowly saying a-good night, though, people weren't shadows yet.

She stopped at a black berry bush and plucked a few berries off and popped them in her mouth. I stood quietly watching her. She reminded me so much of her father, he too loves the wild berries.
Everything seemed so normal in the moment, so much so--that I was beginning to think the weekend was just a bad dream-that it didn't really happen.

It's six days later and it's another tough day. Breathing is hard and I feel sick.
 I think of mother's all over the world going through this, and visualize a hand stretching out in the knowing. I suppose in some ways this is why I have found myself here-we all have a story to share.
I realize deep down that its important to tell (that) story from a mother's perspective, no matter the guilt and pain that's felt in the process of expressing the feelings that are--your own.

Back to Saturday, seven days ago when I received her phone call. Another morning with which I'm trying to keep my head above water.

I received a text from her late in the morning on Saturday. It was an ordinary text of love, nothing unusual. We often pass love between us when she's staying at her boyfriend's house, or at work, or at school.
The text said, "I love you&dad so much. And I miss you already!"
My first thought was, how sweet, my next thought came lightly, just a small thought, in how she was missing us so soon when her dad and I had only left the night before. It was a bit strange, but I hadn't thought further on it-I texted love back to her. She-was at J's house for the last few days (her long time boyfriend) and didn't want to come camping.

I received a phone call from her around 12:00 am Saturday night, the same day she sent the text.
I had just set aside a book I was reading and turned out the flash light in the tent. My husband snored beside me in a heavy sleep, he had drank off and on all day, where I had coffee, keeping me up late.
The phone call from her came through the phone in a frantic voice, I couldn't at first understand what she was saying. She said she had to beg for her phone to call me, that the nurse was standing there to get it back from her. The rest of what she said turned into a mother's nightmare-my mind was a shrill. I had only myself to get to her, and we were miles and miles away from home. She didn't think I could come to her till morning when the phone was taken from her, and I died inside a thousand deaths.

To be continued....


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