The Daffodil Farm
"And every night or so, every other night, calling my mother and waiting for the machine to pick up so I can leave a voice message. I love you. I miss you. I am doing well. The sun is bright and the colors are amazing. I will call back. And calling back twenty to thirty minutes later hoping that she’ll pick up knowing that the unlisted number is probably me. Some nights I can’t get through at all, on Skype or with my phone card.

So it has been three weeks since I have talked to my mother, and Monday my aunt and I spent nearly 24hrs coordinating a phone call. We texted back and forth, I waited in the lab on Skype, finally calling and waking her up at 4.30 in the morning. I talked to her MD, she said, and we are stopping the chemo. Next week we are calling in hospice. She is going away for a few days to visit our grandmother, and then we will call them.

How is she? I ask. She has lost a lot of weight, and is jaundiced. The chemo makes her so sick. Is it alright if I take a few days to finish up my work for the school before I leave? Of course it is. Alright, I say, I will be home a week from Friday. The power goes out, and we lose our connection. I throw a tearful fit in the computer lab about the difficulty of making a single fucking phone call."

From "This Week"
10 photos · 258 views