Cape May

Gabby

The call came on a Wednesday. I was at work. It was not something I ever expected. It was my mother. Her voice was heavy, laden with sadness.

"Bobby, you have to come. Gabby's gone."

"What do you mean gone?" I said, thinking she went away for a while, to be away from me, especially after her demeanor the last time we met.

"I mean gone Robert. She's dead. She...." Her voice trailed off.

Her words shot through my heart like a bullet. My knees gave way and I had to sit.

"Dead?" was all I could muster into the phone, Dead?"

"Get over here as soon as you can."

Everything after that was a blur. I do not remember getting to my mother's house.

She explained to me that John had come over to pick up the kids, as it was his weekend with them. After he left, she started making something for lunch and called to Gabby to come downstairs to eat. There was no answer so she called out again and again. Mommy had knee replacement surgery about two years ago and was doing much better than before the surgery, but still did not like going upstairs if she could avoid it. But after about twenty minutes she ventured upstairs. She found her on the bed. Our bed.

She looked asleep, but mommy knew. She had seen this once before.

The paramedics arrived, but this time it was too late.

Gabby chose.

She wanted it all or nothing at all.

The service and burial was a simple affair. Gabby was buried next to grandma in a site that had been reserved for mommy. No parent thinks they will see their child die before them. During the service, I reached for my mother's hand and she withdrew. I thought that strange.

After the funeral, I returned home with my mother. She had acted strange during the mass for Gabby. When I went to hug her, she stepped away.

Once home, and everyone, including Holly and the kids had left, she called me into the study, a room I hardly frequented while growing up since it was just that, a study. There were no televisions or video distractions. It was like a library, with wooden plank flooring and bookshelves lining the walls. There was a large mahogany table to one side in case one wanted to read. At the back of the room was a large bumped out window, which let so much sunlight in during the day that turning on the lights was unnecessary. There was a Victorian style love seat off to the right of the room with two matching chairs opposite it, separated by a coffee table that no one ever used. In the center of the room up on the exposed portico ceiling beams was a large tropical style fan turning slowly.

She did not invite me to sit, rather came up to me to where I was standing right inside the entrance of the room. My mother had been acting strangely towards me ever since I got there and all throughout the funeral. She stood about two feet away. I could see the anguish in her eyes. She had been crying for a few days now and the small arteries in her eyes were swollen and red.

"Bobby, do you have any idea why she would do this? I know you two reconnected after grandma died. I'm just wondering if she gave you any reason, anything she said or did that might help me understand this."

"Mommy, I have no idea, none whatsoever. The last time we talked, she seemed to be in high spirits."

"Really Bobby, in high spirits? So you have no idea, nothing, Bobby, nothing?"

I sorta felt an accusatory tone in my mother and she was beginning to make me uncomfortable.

"No, I can't think of any reason wh..."