A Fight to Remember

What's the Point? Pt. 1

Meredith:

"You shouldn't be here," my mother said.

"Neither should you." I replied, staring out at the lake. I couldn't remember how I got here exactly...

But I remembered the feeling that drove me here. I was disappearing. There was something terribly wrong with me, and it wasn't going away. Every day, the tick-tock clocked. Down, down, down. I was disappearing. I was dying.

Now... as I stared out into the darkness over the cold lake, all I could think of was... What's the point?

"Don't be a damn fool," her voice said. My mother died years ago, I thought. But she was here, hands tucked in the pockets of her lab coat, hair up in a soft bun, staring at me grimly even though her feet must be freezing in those simple heels, skirt, and pantyhose. She shouldn't be here. She's supposed to be dead. "Aren't you dead?" Wait... am I dead? Was my brain doing the thing again? Where I saw dead people? "Mom?" I turned to face her fully, panicking.

Okay, maybe I didn't want to die.

But I didn't want this. To feel everything slipping out of my grasp. Everything I touched and saw and tasted slipped out of my fingers before I could commit it to memory. Not to mention the crushing pressure of the time bomb in my head that could go off any second. "I can't... I can't breathe... I'm... oh..." I reached for her, and she took my hand.

"I didn't raise a quitter," she said.

I wasn't quitting. It was complicated, but I wasn't quitting, was I? "I'm not..." I muttered. "I'm... I don't know. It's just so hard to see." The fog in my head kept creeping up and up and getting thicker and lasting longer. "I'm tired. Weren't you?"

She sighed and looked down at my hand. She stroked it softly for a few moments. "It was easier for me, I think..."

"Easier?" I pulled my hand away. "What do you mean?"

"I had less to fight for."

Her words struck me hard, and I swallowed. So I hadn't been enough for her? She saw my reaction and her expression softened. "Oh Meredith, I didn't mean... I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how?"

I'd spent my intern year mostly avoiding her, yet at the same time longing for her love and approval, but she died too soon... and despite the love I found in Derek, the love of my friends and family, despite my children... this was something that never quite resolved in my heart.

"I had to let go. For you."

"For me," I deadpanned. I didn't get it. I didn't want her to die. But she did. And I didn't get to say goodbye.

"I didn't want the surgery," she continued. "I knew I hurt you... and it seemed... I was holding you back. I couldn't burden you anymore, Meredith. You said as much."

You want to know why I'm so unfocused? So ordinary? You want to know what happened to me? You!

"I-,"

"I had to let you go, so you could thrive. So you could become... what I raised you to be."

I raised you to be extraordinary! Imagine my disappointment when I wake up after five years to discover you are no more than ordinary!

"Oh."

"Maybe, if Richard - if he wasn't..." My mother clasped her hands together. "I wish I fought harder for him when you were still a child. I could've..." she sighed softly. "But I didn't know how... I was afraid. I'm sorry Meredith."

I'd never heard those words from my mother before. Never to me. Over the years, I'd figured out her story, most of it anyway, so... some part of me always knew this. But hearing the words now, even if she was dead, even if this was just a delusion my damaged brain was creating for me... It sounded genuine. And her presence felt very real and solid. I'd take whatever I could get. "I know," I said.