November 11th 2011
Today was the day I waited for. This was the day I never wanted to come. “The doctors have given her 2, to 3 months… but being realistic, it’s more like 4, to 6 weeks.” I was told over the phone, the worst of places, the worst timing.
I was on my way to get dressed for a wedding. A day of photo’s, smiles and pretending everything would be okay. But it wasn’t.
Speeches came, they thanked their parents, and the groom mentioned that his father passed away 6 years ago from cancer. I held back the tears then, from reasons other than the speech. I was asked what wine I would like to drink, and expecting a glass, they delivered a bottle.
So I got trashed. I cried. I left the wedding early, I didn’t even eat the cake.
November 12th 2011
Last night I was a mess. I remember the whole night, bar the car ride home – there are only glimpses in my mind, of me trying to explain why my vomit was red to my boyfriend’s brother. It made me laugh when I asked that, I think that’s why he kept asking.
I woke up at 7am. Still drunk from the night before. So I laid in bed with my boyfriend, I knew he would hate for me to leave, even if he was asleep. But around 8am, in my drunken state, I started to prepare for the next wedding. Two wedding, two days – this was the weekend I had been looking forward to all year. So, with my body still soaked in alcohol, I curled my hair.
I got dressed, mum was home I got to show her. I felt beautiful, for the first time in a very, very long time. My mum thought I looked beautiful too.
Soon after, the bride walked down the isle, and made my beauty fade – she looked more beautiful than any bride I’ve ever seen.
No drinking today though, I made a promise last night.
The wedding was over quickly, so we played laser tag all dressed up. This was the best thing I could have done to get my mind off everything.
We got home, we all talked. Then my pregnant friend said something, “I’m not worried, I have my mum and Mari, I think I will be fine.” She had no idea that was the hardest thing I had to listen to.
So I smoked myself to numbness.
November 13th 2011
I woke up early, I had to be home by 9am. How the fuck was I going to do this without calling a taxi? I called Dad instead. Soon after I was on my way to my boyfriends, without him. His mum was going to cut my dog’s hair.
I spent most of my day alone. It gave me far too much time, to think about everything I wanted to run away from. I decided to sleep, until dad came back.
I cried myself to sleep that night. More than ever.
My mum. My only mum. My best friend. My hero. My everything.
November 14th 2011
Mum was better today. As good as she will get really. Being better means she can hold a conversation for more than five minutes without falling asleep, or maybe she can feed herself. We are far past her showering herself, or even getting to the toilet alone. But she’s alive today. That one extra day I can cherish her memory for. I hate seeing her like this though, so helpless.
On the lighter side, I got a new bike. So tomorrow morning, as soon as I wake up I will be riding down the nearest florist to buy my mum a bunch of roses, there her favourite. Anything to make her smile.
I’ll really miss that, her smile…
