LJ Idol Week 18: Disinformation

[flipflop_diva]

It’s an age-old instinct — to protect your children, to protect the people you love the most, to want them to hurt less.

“Your mom has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. It’s just a regular checkup.”

(She’d found the lump a few months before, but she was afraid to make the call. She was a nurse. She knew it wasn’t nothing. She hoped she was wrong, but she knew the odds.)

•••

They didn’t want us to worry. They didn’t want us to change our lives around. They didn’t want us to do something that might mess up our futures. I was in grad school at the time, after all, and Liz was just a junior in college.

“It’ll just be one round of chemo. It’s not very advanced. Stay there and do your internship. You don’t need to drop out of college.”

(It was Stage 4 when they caught it. The chemo and radiation went on for weeks. She lost almost half her body weight. Her hair fell out. She had to quit working. Some days she couldn’t get out of bed. Most days she cried because of the pain.)

•••

They didn’t want us to interrupt plans we had made months before. They didn’t want us to have to see her like this. They didn’t want to admit this was more than a temporary setback.

“Your mom is back in the hospital. They just need to run a couple of tests. It will all be fine. Go on your trip.”

(She hadn’t been feeling well. The pain had been getting worse. They knew something was wrong. The tests confirmed it had spread. The cancer was in her liver. It was just a matter of time. There was nothing left to be done.)

•••

They wanted to believe it would be fine. They wanted to believe it hadn’t been caught too late. They wanted to believe the chemo would work.

They wanted to believe it would all go away.

“Everything is going to be fine.”

(She died twenty-four hours later. Nothing was ever fine.)



Written for Week 18 of therealljidol

Comments

[slumber.livejournal.com]

*hugs you hard*

[colls]

*hugs*

This is beautifully written and makes me want to call everyone in my family just to tell them I love them.

[bleodswean.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[interchanges.livejournal.com]

*hugs you tight*

[superficiality.livejournal.com]

This is beautifully written and absolutely moving.

[adoptedwriter.livejournal.com]

I'm so , so sorry! Hugs.....aW

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I love the compactness of this.

And as a parent myself, yes, you've got the equation exactly right: We don't want our kids to worry.

[roina-arwen.livejournal.com]

*Hugs*

Because you can't have too many.

[cheshire23.livejournal.com]

No, nothing was fine. I'm sorry. :(

[halfshellvenus.livejournal.com]

All of those things we do in trying not to alarm or to disrupt (and maybe to help us deny to ourselves what we hope is not true)... they all become so tragically wrong if the worst comes to pass. They create more hurt, not less.

I'm so sorry for the pain you've all been through, and for your mother's illness and passing.

[whipchick.livejournal.com]

The interplay between the two voices here is wrenching. Beautifully written.

[eska818.livejournal.com]

Eesh. This packed a mean punch in such a short amount of space. Well done, and so sad. ._.

[karmasoup.livejournal.com]

Oh my goodness, hon... my heart so goes out to you. I've seen the pain this kind of devastation does to the family members left behind, even years later. I'm so sorry for your loss, but, more, for the terrible pain it caused, in this manner.

[mamas-minion.livejournal.com]

This had to be devastating,I'm truly sorry for your loss heart goes out to you and your family (I lost my mother in a similar fashion, but don't have the strength to discuss it).

[jem0000000.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[talon.livejournal.com]

*hugs* :(