He decided to visit his mother one last time and to get the answers that he understood that he really needed. When he arrived to his childhood home old memories began to flood through his current reality. He hadn't grasped just how much he had pushed those memories away until he was walking up the steps leading to the porch. As he approached the door he was greeted by a man in blue scrubs. For a split second he thought that he may have had the wrong house.
"Yes. If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"
"Sorry about that. I am John. Ms. Miller's hospice nurse. She let me know that you might be stopping by."
"No. I think she has been waiting on you."
"Another nurse will be here in a couple of hours if you need help with anything. And Ms. Miller's sister, Maureen, will take care of her overnight."
A.T. took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold into his former home. The house was familiar and then it wasn't. He noticed that dust covered the photo of him and his dad at his little league baseball game as well as the photo of all three of them when he was 9 years old. The photos appeared to barely hold onto the wooden panel wall as the lone nails did there best to hold them in place. The air was still and damp. It smelled of stale moth balls and old wood. With every step the floors seemed to creek and protest that he was again walking on them. The short hallway to his mother's room from the front door felt as if it continued for miles.
Once inside he was not prepared for what he saw. His mother was a shell of herself. So fragile and helpless. The bed almost swallowed her small framed body completely. The crumbled beige sheets lost the boldness of their color against her pasty skin. He began to regret that he had not been to visit her in the last 3 years. Seeing her like that made him feel like he abandoned her.
"Andre? Is that you baby?"
"I'm glad you came to see me. I've been so lonely since you've been gone"
"Yeah. What did the doctor's tell you? How long do you have?"
"Oh, they think a couple of months but I don't know about that."
"Hmm. Well I'm not going to stay long. You look like you may need some more rest", A.T. replied as he began to walk away. He noticed a shift in his initial perception of his mother's appearance when he heard her voice. Her voice and the house made him remember everything that he had tried to escape from. He remembered everything that he hated about himself. He remembered taking his father's life. He remembered that he did not have a father because of the woman who lay in that room. He became angry.
"Aw, Sugabear, don't leave. You just got here.", his mother responded.
A.T. knew what he needed to do. Sugabear was the name his mother used when she would come into his room. It was the name he asked her never to say again. It was the name that made everything that had happened before in his life; real. It was the name that transformed him and made him angry and unforgiving.
He blinked a couple of times as the air became calm again. He didn't need to look at his mother anymore. She looked like she was asleep. The once crumpled sheets were straightened and the bed was as it should be. It no longer swallowed his mother's body. It seemed to elevate her as an offering in payment of past sins. He walked to the other side of the room and pulled the chair closer to the bed. He then sat down and waited.
-MochaOut (excerpt from TWLTŠ2008. C.G-S writing as MochaOut)
