September Mourn

Two weeks to the day before she passed. The clock was ticking.

 

The details of Sept 4, 2020, will live in my mind forever.

Most of the details of Sept 3 will as well.

I'd taken Mom to two appointments on the 3rd, with the second one being a cardiologist. She'd received news that her heart was failing.

According to her as we talked in the car, she said it could be six months or who knows.

I think, in truth, she was ready.

In reality, the doctor said it was a lot less than that. She was gone the next morning.

Four years ago today.

My parents are with me every day and I feel blessed to have had Mom until she was 83, as opposed to Dad dying at 59.

The last years of her life weren't easy. My sister and I tended to be her plus one for events. Laura took her to the weddings and showers while I took her to the parties and picnics.

Of course, she also had grandchildren who were also available. They were all there for her. I'm so glad that she and Sean were so close.

To that end, he and I laugh about her all the time. There are frequent jokes that only we get and she would laugh at.

It helps to have a bit of a dark sense of humor.

So there's no question I'm thinking of her today and trying to not think about the events of that morning.

The call to 911. The EMT arriving. The police. The phone calls. The texts.

The waiting.

Knowing that she was gone and wanting to tell the 911 operator that but carrying on as she was giving me CPR instructions. I couldn't give up but, at the same time, there was the reality to consider.

Remaining calm and keeping emotion out of it all.

The waiting (yes, there was a lot of that).

Finally, the news I expected, was given by the EMT, who assured me it wasn't COVID-related. I knew clear as could be that it was her heart. 

Then more waiting for the funeral home.

Offering the police a drink.

Being advised to not go back to the living room. That bothered me a lot.

Generally not going into the house at all. Just standing at the top of the driveway and making phone calls.

Then standing, almost at attention, as she was brought out. I had to be there for that, even after the funeral director suggested I walk away. 

No. I couldn't. I had to be there for Mom.

Oh, there was more to the day. The phone calls -- some so much harder than others.

And the one I didn't make. Couldn't make.

Sean. That had to happen in person when I picked him up at his mother's house. I remain happy he wasn't at the house for any of it.

Then helping him call his grandparents.

Then a long, lonely, drive from Hopewell Jct, NY to Bridgeport, CT. 

In shock.

If I had anything on the radio, I think it was banal sports talk that I wasn't paying attention to.

Finally, eating, at Jersey Mike's in Fairfield before getting to Bridgeport to call a baseball game. Yes, I was going to work, dammit. Everyone felt I should. I felt confident Mom would want me to honor the commitment. It was bad enough that I wouldn't make a game the evening of her funeral.

At that point, nothing had been said publicly. Then I discovered my aunt wrote something online, so I quickly posted a picture of her and a few words to let people know. We were trying to make sure everyone of importance knew before we made a statement but it was too late.

Then I spoke during the game. I wanted to say something quick to make sure Nick Castellanos didn't "make it a 4-0 ballgame."

Then listeners -- friends -- coming by to express sympathy.

And Paul Silverfarb and Shawn Sailer wanting to take me out for a few minutes postgame. Also, the reality that I had to return to Mahopac. To her house.

That, fortunately, would wait until the next day.

I wound up with family in Bridgeport to have a late dinner and just talk for a bit. That's where I finally got to see my sister. I'd spend a sleepless night on her floor.

Hell, as it turns out, was just beginning for us. This was only the first phase of the storm.

But, while sitting there, a cat came over to try to get my chicken parm. A cute animal named Binx. He was offered to me.

"I'm serious," my niece's husband Eric said. We'd lose Eric roughly six months later. 

A little over a week later, Binx came with me to Mahopac.

His name is Rascal Squeaky Beast now.

A ray of light out of a bad day.

Someone to keep me company and whenever you want to say I'm a crazy cat person, remember why he came into our lives.

Mom, we think of you every day. We were your "partners in crime." We both have so many memories. So much travel. So many stories.

We love telling them.

We miss you.

We have to work tonight.

Don't worry. We'll honor the commitment.