Sometime on/about/after April 10th, mom was diagnosed with corona
virus, only because the woman in the next room, and across the hall, as
well as her roommate, all died from the virus.
During the conversation the week before, mom was fearful and felt like a sitting duck, and knew the virus was coming for her.
During the brief conversation on April 24th, obviously sick and struggling to breathe, she said she was starting to feel a little better. I now know she was saying this to make me feel better. By this time, her liver was shutting down and pneumonia had settled into one of her lungs.
When I’d speak to her, I’d end our calls with an I love you, even though I felt the words were hollow. It was easier than awkward silence. Perhaps I viewed it as a kindness. In hindsight I don’t regret this, whether I felt it or not, at least she believed the words, and I guess that is what mattered--that she FELT loved.
I've been in the process of trying to figure out or understand LOVE. It has always been conditional in my life, especially with mom. And due to the abuse and her stubbornness, what I felt, if I had to sum it up in one word would be resentment, rather than love; however, for all the abuse I've endured, no one deserves corona virus--well maybe those assholes protesting to open the states up, or the ones who refuse to social distance or who refuse to wear a mask or wash their hands.
But at least my last words to her were, "I love you."
During the conversation the week before, mom was fearful and felt like a sitting duck, and knew the virus was coming for her.
During the brief conversation on April 24th, obviously sick and struggling to breathe, she said she was starting to feel a little better. I now know she was saying this to make me feel better. By this time, her liver was shutting down and pneumonia had settled into one of her lungs.
When I’d speak to her, I’d end our calls with an I love you, even though I felt the words were hollow. It was easier than awkward silence. Perhaps I viewed it as a kindness. In hindsight I don’t regret this, whether I felt it or not, at least she believed the words, and I guess that is what mattered--that she FELT loved.
I've been in the process of trying to figure out or understand LOVE. It has always been conditional in my life, especially with mom. And due to the abuse and her stubbornness, what I felt, if I had to sum it up in one word would be resentment, rather than love; however, for all the abuse I've endured, no one deserves corona virus--well maybe those assholes protesting to open the states up, or the ones who refuse to social distance or who refuse to wear a mask or wash their hands.
But at least my last words to her were, "I love you."
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