I Don't Know. . .She's Drowning

It was the way she said it.  

"I don't know."

The tremor in her voice. The looking at a distance. Her body slouched as I asked the question. Her third surgery in less than a year and the way she said, “I don’t know” It felt like my life force was ebbing.

Her eyes are always puffy now. Not sure if it’s a symptom of her failing gall bladder. Maybe it is the side effect of the medication. I see the movements of old lady struggling with balance. She can’t be.  She’s family.  She does not look like the other seniors I have seen before. Her hair is not white or gray. Her skin is not wrinkled and weathered. Her clothes don’t look like three sizes too big.  

Maybe my glasses are rose-colored. She is the one I've grown up with. She held me when I was little. She fed me when I was hungry. She was there. . .Always there. Seeing her aging means I am aging to. That simply won’t do. Her mortality means my immortality is figment of my imagination. Again, that can’t be true.

“I really don’t what is going happen,” this is what she said to me. How can she not know what is going to happen? She’s been hospitalized a few times this year. High blood pressure for one. Gall stones for another. Fainting because of the heat. Her constitution is lousy. Her words might foreshadow a tough winter. I would know. I would take steps to learn what may happen. I would Google the procedure. How long it would take? I would know who the doctor is. I would know the recovery time. I would arm myself with knowledge.  She works in a hospital. That information is at her fingertips.

Trouble with facing reality is that Denial is such an easy and convenient alternative. Coming to grips that Life continues and you may not be there to see more. Despite all out efforts to stay young. Shorter haircuts. Wearing trendy clothes. Several dye jobs. Our body wants to return. Our soul needs to go Home, away from this journey.

I respond warmly, “How can you not know what to expect? It will be your third stint this year. You are an expert” I hope for a smile. I’m disappointed.  I’d be happy with annoyance of the surgery rather than the responses I've been getting from her impending surgery. Smiling, I try. This always will raise her spirits.It doesn't.   

There is a distance in her voice. She talks as if I am  not even there. All I get are red flags raising. Her attitude, her appearance, her grimness gets to me. Hoping for a change of attitude would turn the tide. There is a conciliatory smile. It gives me  pause. It reminds of a conquered foe before the battle.

Lesson One: Battles are won in the temples, long before they are met on the fields.

Its not over.

Got to remind her she is not alone. There are others who have faced similar obstacles. Her fight in this journey is not without company. She has family. She has friends to cheer her on. To guide her. To swim with her. We need give her something to fight for. 

Doubt brings some reality. Been on the other side to know that distant look. Well, Life its not over and she is on my side. I know the way. You are not alone. Just a little more and people you love are waiting for you.