It's dark in my room, as usual, although there's no sunlight at the time this took place. I'm waiting for my friend and her husband to get their butts home with some food, since I haven't eaten all day.
There's a half-finished blanket in the basket at my feet. It needs to be expanded but I don't have the energy right now. Let's see what's in the good old inbox.
What's this? An Email from my aunt asking me to call them as quickly as possible? Oh boy... this is bound to hurt like hell.
You know that icy cold chill that runs down your spine like someone's just thrown arctic wind from your scalp to your knees? That feeling.
A three-way skype conference, and my grandmother and aunt pick up different extensions of the phone.
Me: "WHat's going on? I got the communique, and I'm a little confused. is grandpa ok?"
Aunt: "He's fine. But, $myname, your, your mother is dead."
Me: "I beg your pardon?"
Gran: "Yes, she's dead. Heart attack."
I do some mental math.
Me: "At the age of 40?"
Aunt: "Yes."
Key in the door. I'm fighting tears as my friend walks in, she sees I'm about to fall apart right here and now.
Friend: "You look like hell warmed over. you ok?"
I nod, brushing tears with my fingertips and unplugging the speakers so she can hear the rest of the conversation. She listens, silently hands me my dinner, and walks out. Ouch.
There was no funeral. My family were too lazy to take care of it, and I was not about to do it, as it wasn't my responsibility. I'll find where Mum's buried and take some flowers.
Damn but I miss her. And I feel guilty because the last time I'd talked to her it was to tell her I wasn't ready yet. When she realised I meant it, well, I got the reports, and it was a heart attack, but she had lethal levels of certain drugs in her system.
Great. Just great.
Mom, for what it's worth, I'm sorry.