Paying Respect.

On that day, at that moment, for some reason. I think hearing T@ complain about T! and company got my guard down a little so I let her in on the fact that I wasn’t their no. 1 fan. I took it a step further though and launched into an assault on T!’s kids involving them and their diet. Or, more specifically where they stood on the meat vs fruit and vegetables thing. I explained that I didn’t think they were entitled to a pass anymore, that in this day and age what with all the information available they did not have an excuse. That they had even less of an excuse because they had relatives that were anti-meat. My rage climaxed with me threatening to disown them, saying that as far as I was concerned they were dead to me. B sitting to my right flinched visibly. T@ seemed unsure of whether to laugh or take me seriously. Instead she pointed out that mom was on her way back.

I started to regret what I had said almost instantly.

The drive back home was uneventful for a while. It was getting late and the length of the trip was starting to take its toll. We were treated to a beautiful sunset and just after it got dark we arrived in a small town about another thirty minutes away from home. Everyone started to seem relieved that at last we had reached a recognizable landmark. The relief was short lived. We had stopped at a garage for some bottled water and now, wanting to leave there, I struggled to get the car to start. We gave it a few minutes and after several renewed attempts eventually managed to get it to start. The laughs and jokes about the incident had a revealing nervous edge to them.

We reached the outskirts of town a few minutes later and as we started to leave the damned place behind the car cut out again while we were driving. We careened to a stop on somebodies pavement. The people living there offered us a hand but again it seemed a short while of leaving it alone is what brought it back to life, not really any of the poking or prodding that these strange friendly people were doing. Just outside of town now on a steep incline the idiot driving in front of me weaving from one lane to another forced me to slow down and wouldn’t you just know it the fncking car cut out for a third time. This was starting to get serious.

It was dark, the road was busy, we were parked on a shoulder just after a bend, ideal candidates for an accident being hit from behind by someone that didn’t see us. The ladies were panicking and I had to get stern to stop all the words that were spilling out of them while I needed to figure out what our next best move was. Mom’s breathing had become noticeably labored. Things felt uncomfortable, strained. I was seething in anger. Why was this happening? How could I have let this happen? Surely I should have known a whole lot better. This car had belonged in the bin for a very long time now already. How the hell was I going to get us out of this? Why did it have to happen today, why did it have to happen now?

The car had cut out a couple of times that night. Each time it was a question of giving the engine enough time to cool before being able to start it up again. By the fifth time it cut out I felt confident that we should just wait it out before giving it another try. Eventually we got close enough to home to start feeling like things weren’t going to end so bad after all. But the experience definitely did take its toll, especially on mom. As much as there might be a sense of urgency about doing fun things with her while she’s still here, travelling with her again does not seem like a very appealing option. Better to just embrace the fact that the time for doing that has come, and the fact that the time for doing that has gone.

Early the following week mom had an appointment with a specialist. The specialist got a cat scan done and confirmed that yes, she does indeed have lung cancer. Today she was discharged from hospital after spending the night there after getting a biopsy. The biopsy went horribly wrong. What started off as being a pretty simple straightforward half a day at most thing turned into a two day this is your worst nightmare come true thing. I guess you could put it down to what seems to be incompetence on the hospital’s part. I think we’ve managed to reach a point where people that work in hospitals no longer pretend, if they ever really did, that they are there to put you first, to care for you, to help you. We’ve reached a point where it’s clear that all it really involves at the end of the day is whether you have medical insurance or not, and if so how much they are prepared to pay.

On all fronts the verdict is pretty clear; mom is in a very bad way. Next up is a visit to the oncologist. My guess is that that is also going to turn into a circus. At this point mom looks like a tatty and tired rag doll. She looks very fragile. Up to now she’s not wanted to share the news with anyone outside of her three children. I haven’t heard that she’s broken this to G@ yet. Her brother; Uncle C in Cape Town, doesn’t know yet either and it’s starting to feel a bit weird not keeping him in the loop. This conspiracy to keep some kind of dirty little secret does not feel like a good idea. Everything else about it seems to be turning out badly and this just seems like another one of those things that will end up blowing up in our faces.

If things continue to go south as fast as they seem to be going what if there isn’t a chance for moms close friends and relatives to pay their respects while she’s still alive? What kind of drama will unfold from them not being able to do that? Is it fair to put us in this situation? Is it going to turn out that someone should have said something before it got too late? Something else I wonder about is whether there might be some value to be had from this whole sorry thing playing out so badly. This period in time being so messy. There’s a thing going on about an emotional disconnect, about feeling emotionally distant. That emotionally what’s happening in the environment appears to be more appropriate than what is going on internally. More appropriate than what is not going on internally.

“It is not that you are IN prison; you ARE the prison. The prison is an illusion. If you are identified with an illusory self, then you are asleep. Once you are aware of the prison, if you fight to get out of the illusion, then you’re treating the illusion as if it’s real and you still remain asleep, except now the dream becomes a nightmare. You’ll be chasing and running from shadows forever.” ~ Samadhi Part 1: Maya, the Illusion of the Self ~ @ 15:30.

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