LJ Idol Week 9: Trolley Problem

[flipflop_diva]

It wasn’t the news she wanted to hear. It’s never the news anyone wants to hear.

“It’s malignant,” the doctor said. “We need to operate now.”

The next morning she was being checked into the hospital, her husband by her side. The last time she would ever see her right breast. But she would do what she had to do to survive.

She and her husband had talked the night before. Cried. Talked some more. They had two daughters. Not completely grown but almost. In college and graduate school. Thousands of miles away.

They decided not to tell them, to spare them pain. For now. Until finals were over. Until there was better news.

She didn’t want them to put their lives on hold for her. She didn’t want them to have to give up their own dreams.

The operation went fine. As well as something like that could go. The chemo arrangements were made. They had a week before it started.

The day before the first treatment, they called their girls.

•••

“Don’t come home,” my mother said, before the first tear had even finished falling, “Stay there. Do your internship. Everything will be fine.”

I hung up the phone, sad and overwhelmed and unsure. What kind of daughter would I be to stay when my mom was sick, when she might need me? But leaving would mean giving up the internship I’d worked so hard to get. The one that could open doors for the future.

“Stay,” my mom said again the next day. “I don’t want you to quit. It’s not a big deal. I’m going to be fine.”

I stayed. Still unsure, still sad. Now guilt-ridden. But I stayed. It’s what she wanted.

I went home for two weeks between the end of my internship and the start of the new semester. Chemo was almost over then. My mom was so thin, so pale, so weak.

My sister told me stories of the month she was at home. Of how Mom couldn’t get out of bed. Of how she had to call some of my mom’s friends one afternoon to rush her to the hospital. Of how she thought maybe it was worse than they were telling us.

The guilt was horrible.

I spent two weeks trying to make up for it. I spent all my time with my mom. Talking when she could, laughing when she could, just watching movies when she couldn’t do anything else.

But when the two weeks was over, I got back on a plane and flew across the country, feeling worse about myself than ever.

•••

The chemo worked. For a time. She got the good news eight months after the horrible news had come. We all cried when we found out.

The internship worked too. The newspaper I interned at over the summer offered me a six-month job after I graduated. It was only temporary, filling in for someone on maternity leave, but it was a job and it paid the bills and it gave me six months to find something permanent.

It came down to two offers. One in Cape Cod, just a few hours from where I was living in Boston. One in central California, just a few hours up the interstate from my parents.

“Pick the one you really want,” my mother said.

I thought I wanted to stay on the East Coast. I had thought that since the second I arrived in Boston for grad school. A chance to experience something new. A chance to immerse myself in a world completely different from where I grew up.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a feeling, a little prickle.

If something happened — when something happened — I didn’t want to be three thousand miles away.

My mom had given up everything for my sister and me. She stayed at home with us when we were young, she led our Girl Scout troops, she made my colorguard team all the flags we twirled during half time. She sewed ballet costumes and Halloween costumes and never bought clothes for herself because she wanted to spend that money on us.

She had done so much, she had been so much.

Now it was my turn.

I took the job in California.

•••

Seven months after I moved back to California, my mom passed away. The cancer came back fast, and this time the chemo couldn’t even slow it.

We were by her side —my dad, my sister and me — the whole last week she was in the hospital. We held her hand, we played her music, we talked about everything we had never had time to talk about before. Even when she could no longer hear us, even when it was just a waiting game, we stayed and we talked and we held her hand. Until the very end.

I knew then I had made the right choice. Our lives and our future were more important to her than having us around when she might have needed us, but she was more important to us than any job could ever be.

•••

Sometimes I wonder, still to this day, if I made the right choice, if I should have given up that internship. I look at my life now and think about the things that would have been different if I had — the job I have now, the friends I have now, the man that I married. I wouldn’t want any of that to change. But I wish I had been a better daughter, I wish I had been less selfish.

It’s not a regret so much as a reminder. To do better next time. To choose better next time. Because there will be a next time. There always is.




Thank you for reading! This was written for Week 9 of therealljidol. Voting will be up later. If you would like to read any of the other entries for this week's topic, you can find them here.

Comments

[tonithegreat.livejournal.com]

Okay, this totally makes me regret not calling my mom today! Beautiful and sad and real. You did what she would have wanted with the internship; one of a suite of "right things," I'm sure.

[eternal-ot.livejournal.com]

*Hugs* Do not feel regret coz you made up for it later and your mom would have surely been proud of your achievement.

[my-name-is-jenn.livejournal.com]

It's so hard to look back and wonder about your choices after the fact. But the way you've written it here, I think your mother would have wanted you to do what you did. And you were able to be there for her in the end.

♥

[mamas-minion.livejournal.com]

Your mom obviously did not want to upset you and your sisters plans if she didn't have too from what is here. She might have regretted you not taking the internship if you hadn't.

[murielle.livejournal.com]

If this is true, and please forgive my clumsiness if it is, then you gave your mother an incredible gift by staying where you were and finishing your internship. It was her dream for you and you made it come true.

Wonderfully written.

Hugs

[baxaphobia.livejournal.com]

There are always reasons for the paths we choose. And we might not know what lessons we are supposed to learn. A nice but sad take on the topic. I can relate to this as you might see if you read my entry.

[rayaso.livejournal.com]

I don't know how much, if any, of this happened to you. Assuming this is personal, she was a wonderful mother, and I'm sorry you lost her so early. She didn't want you to come home, so you did the right thing by finishing your internship. All those things she did for you were an expression of her love for you. You were with her at the end, and I doubt she thought of you as a selfish daughter or that she wanted a "better" daughter. Regrets are so easy to pick up, but so hard to put down.

[alycewilson.livejournal.com]

You did what she wanted you to do. As hard as it may be, try not to feel too guilty about it.

[dee-aar2.livejournal.com]

If this is a chapter of your life, then you did the right thing. You completed your internship as your mother had wanted you to and you were with her at the end. She would have been upset if you gave up your dreams for her even if she was ailing ...

I hope our comments help put your mind at ease. You did the right thing.

[dmousey.livejournal.com]

You are not a bad daughter. You are not selfish. You did what your mother wanted, and it probably eased her mind to know she wasn't holding you back from an opportunity because of her illness. That would only have disheartened her when she needed to fight.. (Trust me- we moms are like that.)

Rest easy, you were there when she needed you most. You made her last days as comfortable as is possible, and know her spirit is always with you. I am sorry for your loss.

Hugs and peace~~~

[halfshellvenus.livejournal.com]

It seems as if you made the right decision both times. The first, because your mother wanted that rare opportunity for you so much (though I know why that would eat away at you). The second time... you listened to your instincts, and they were right.

I'm sorry you lost your mom all too soon, and I hope those last months you spent with her offer some solace. She surely knew she was loved.

[l0retta.livejournal.com]

This entry made me cry. There's really nothing more painful than the death of a loved one. I'm so sorry for your loss.
I do totally agree with what others before me have said too; I think your mum definitely wanted you to take that internship *hugs*