A sad lack of sympathy

Late November 1987 I was a senior in highscool, I had a job, a good car, good friends and things were finally starting to go my way..to some extent.

I got home from school like normal, and began putting on my shirt and tie for my mininum wage monkey job in the piss and shit soaked men's department of the discount store.

My dad walked into my room, and said, "son, I've got something to tell you..."

My dad wasn't normally solemn and serious like this.

I only had 5 min to get dressed and to work, and because of my tight schedule, I continued preparing for my shift as he spoke.

He said, Your mom has cancer, they found it this morning and they are operating on her as we speak.

Call me a sonovabitch, but before you do, read my previous posts, but I had no emotional reaction whatsoever. I felt nothing. I was more concerned what this was going to do to my work schedule.

For those of you who don't want to go read about mommy dearest, she was an abusive, self absorbed, hateful and evil woman who had used her power and energy over past ten years to make my life a living hell.

My heart was empty.

My dad said that I needed to go to the hospital in case she didn't make it. I loved my dad and I could see he was hurting so I called into work for the first time ever and told them I would not be in.

I didn't know what purpose me going to the hospital was going to serve. My mother never had a kind word to say to me and I sincerely believed she hated me. How could my presence make her feel better?

On the way to the hospital, we were driving over some huge dips in the road and the person in the opposing lane was really really big, I mean huge. When his car passed over the humps all of the fat on his upper body jumped up and engulfed the guy's head.

It was the funniest damn thing I had ever seen, but I didn't feel it was appropriate to laugh on the way to see my "dying mother". It took everything I had to keep my laughter inside, tears were crawling out of my eyes and this actually helped with my ruse.

We got to the hospital and went up to the fourth floor. I walked in and saw my mom. She had tubes coming out of her and she had a miserable look on her face, I found out she had just had a full masectomy.

I would never wish this on anyone.. even my mother. I didn't know what to say. I'm not an asshole by any means and I'll hold up a feigned and solemn concern to keep up appearances.

The docs were getting ready to do some more stuff to her and we had to go. My dad then said, kiss your mother goodbye.

He may as well have told me to give a blowjob to the orderly holding the bedpan. Dammit folks, my mother had not hugged or kissed me since I was a tiny baby and the last 17 years of post partum depression had me used to the idea that I would never have to touch her.

I steeled myself, walked over and gave her a peck on the cheek. It was like I was french kissing a donkey's asshole. So wrong. Why should I pretend this is my near and dear loving mother just because she was sick.

I got home and called my Grandmother and Aunt. I figured they needed to know what was going on. My mom hated them too. They caught the next flight into town. They really couldn't afford it but Grandma and aunt Katie is good people and to them family comes first.

I took them to the hospital to see mom. Grandma and mom's sister Katie were seriously concerned and wanted to help despite the shitty way mom had treated them in the past.

Mom looked over at them as they walked in the door and said, "what the fuck are you doing here?" I was embarassed like it is was my fault or something. Fuck! I wanted to crawl into the woodwork. I knew mom was hurting but Jesus Christ.

Grandma and Katie didn't say anything except "do you need anything?" mom turned to the window and ignored them.

I took them back to the airport. They had paid a grand to get here for two hours just to be treated like shit. I just went back to work. there was nothing more I could do at this point.

Mom was out of the hospital a couple of days later. Dad had disappeared. I don't know where he went but I was stuck being my mothers nursemaid. I had to drive her to all her appointments, help her with physical therapy, feed her and everything else.I nearly lost my job from missing so much work. All the while she was screaming and cussing me. I couldn't do anything right. Even my breathing drew her rage.

This was about normal for her except for the fact that I was usually able to get away from her when she acted like this. I was stuck with her during the recovery and reconstructive surgery.

I was working, going to school, taking care of the house and nursing mom back to health while she verbally abused me. I considered running away but what kind of man would I be if I did that shit?

Seriously, I was looking foward to her either her getting better, or dying and going to hell.... and where the fuck was dad? Hmm weird.

I still don't know what I was supposed to do or feel in that situation but I did the best I could.