Mom was dead.
Long live the bloody mary. No, the bloody mary is a drink. Right.
We left the hospital after she died. I sat in Sissy's car. The silence was the proverbial,deafening.
Sissy's long nails were finished red. They were beautiful. She handled the wheel with grace, and confidence. She shook, but she was a fabulous driver, always was. She was alot like dad this way. They both drove as though the car was connected to the road.
"Well, that's it." She said to me.
"Yes." I said back to her. I watched her. She was sad. Her profile was vulnerable at this moment. "How do you feel?"
"Okay", she sucked in air.
The last time I saw her this way, she told me about the terrible day her husband got killed.
"I'd love a bloody Mary." I told her.
"Your an alcoholic."
"Yeah," I said. "Never mind."
"What did you think?"
"About what?"
"Her dying."
"Fabulous show."
"Katie," my sister said and started laughing.
"What?" I elongated the 'a' and also started to laugh.
We caught eyes, hers brown, mine blue, they mixed, and we exploded in laughter.
"This is terrible. We shouldn't be laughing like this now."
"I know that."But we were, we were laughing hysterically. Was it nerves? It didn't feel as though it were nerves. Maybe it was the mystical 'release' of all that had built up over these past months. It felt more like that. Yes, a release.
As we reached the driveway of Sissy's house,I started to cry as did she. I walked around in a daze.
It is such an odd feeling when someone you love dies. There are things you go through.
First I couldn't feel my body. As though I was in the midst of fantastic anxiety voyage.
Long live the bloody mary. No, the bloody mary is a drink. Right.
We left the hospital after she died. I sat in Sissy's car. The silence was the proverbial,deafening.
Sissy's long nails were finished red. They were beautiful. She handled the wheel with grace, and confidence. She shook, but she was a fabulous driver, always was. She was alot like dad this way. They both drove as though the car was connected to the road.
"Well, that's it." She said to me.
"Yes." I said back to her. I watched her. She was sad. Her profile was vulnerable at this moment. "How do you feel?"
"Okay", she sucked in air.
The last time I saw her this way, she told me about the terrible day her husband got killed.
"I'd love a bloody Mary." I told her.
"Your an alcoholic."
"Yeah," I said. "Never mind."
"What did you think?"
"About what?"
"Her dying."
"Fabulous show."
"Katie," my sister said and started laughing.
"What?" I elongated the 'a' and also started to laugh.
We caught eyes, hers brown, mine blue, they mixed, and we exploded in laughter.
"This is terrible. We shouldn't be laughing like this now."
"I know that."But we were, we were laughing hysterically. Was it nerves? It didn't feel as though it were nerves. Maybe it was the mystical 'release' of all that had built up over these past months. It felt more like that. Yes, a release.
As we reached the driveway of Sissy's house,I started to cry as did she. I walked around in a daze.
It is such an odd feeling when someone you love dies. There are things you go through.
First I couldn't feel my body. As though I was in the midst of fantastic anxiety voyage.
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