Break me

O

December 6, 2013

I went to Grandma's and Grandpa's house for thanksgiving, and for the entire afternoon's entertainment, we sat in the basement watching grainy videos of dad when he was younger.

I was bored to death watching them. Maybe watching childhood videos is a common thing for most families, but my family is weird. Did your mom make videos of you? No, no she didn't. And you didn't make any videos of me.

So anyways, after wasting a bunch of time twiddling with my fingers, playing with my hair, and wearing down my ipod battery from excessive jetpack joyriding, you came on. I was really surprised. I hadn't been really watching the dumb video, but when I looked at the screen there was some birthday party going on and you were sitting there next to dad.

You two must have been dating or just gotten married at that time. And I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it was you. I couldn't believe that there had been this treasure of you smiling and breathing, and this treasure was just stashed away. And I couldn't believe that no one had told me about this treasure.

But it was so good to see you. It was so so good to see you.

You were only smiling and sitting next to dad in that video, but it made me feel so much better. So I put my ipod down in hope you'd be on there again.

And you were. The next video was of you and dad and your first newborn baby-my bratty older sister. I completely ignored that baby you were hovering over because I heard your voice in that video. You were talking about how you and dad had just gotten your baby a new pillow so that her head would lay right in her baby carrier.

Am I the only one who wouldn't go crazy over that? Am I? I heard your voice. I heard your voice!

I haven't heard your voice in almost five years, and I miss it so much.

I can't believe no one told me about that video. I wish I had stolen it and taken it home so I could watch it and re-watch it again and again until that grainy old tape wears out.

Someone turned off the video then, saying it was boring, so I didn't get to see more of you. So I guess I was the only one who was excited.

But I heard your voice, and I saw you smiling and breathing. I haven't seen that for so long. It's been so long. It's been like forever. I miss you so much.

 December sixth is the day before you died. I don't remember much about what happened that day. I know nothing big happened that day, especially in comparison to the day after. Okay. It was a Saturday. You weren't doing anything that you hadn't been doing for the past months. You just laid around and talked on the phone.

 You weren't doing anything important, and I had a book talk that was due next week so I thought maybe you could help me on it. I brought all my stuff in your room and spread it out on your bed because didn't really sleep in your bed anymore; you slept on this fancy hospital bed that moved up and down.

Anyways, I brought my stuff in so you could help me, and I remember it ended up with you snapping at me, saying you weren't going to do my homework for me and that I should figure it out by myself.

 That was rude, but I'm giving you a pass for that one because I know you were in a lot of pain at the time and under a lot of drugs. And you did die the next day. And I never really give you passes. Plus, I know that you really just wanted me out of your hair so you could go blab on the phone to whatever nutcase would give you the time of day and make you feel better.

So I just spent the whole afternoon laying by you on your bed, silently working on my dumb book talk.

Then in between one of your phone calls, you looked over at me and randomly decided that my fingernails were too long so you cut them. Quite honestly, I was upset there too. What, did you think that I wasn't capable of taking care of myself or something?

I was twelve. No, of course I wasn't capable of taking care of myself, but I was a lot more capable than you were. You wouldn't even help me with my dumb book talk.

I had come in there to be with you, and you just spent the time on the phone or pretending to sleep. So I was kind of upset with you by the end of the day. And I went to bed that night, fully expecting any apology from you.

I know you just thought I was acting like a brat though. You basically told me to grow up.

Why do we have to be like this? I could be writing about how you were the greatest mother this world has ever known, but really, all you are is six feet under.

If I was a good person, I'd go on forever about how you were the best mom ever. Everyone else, like grandma, like to say you were, but I think there are better moms out there. I bet that there is some mommy out there who would help her daughter on her book talk even if she knew that she had less than twenty four hours left alive.

I bet there are some moms who would spend their last days actually talking with their kids instead of wasting that time on the phone.

But you didn't know it was your last day. What would you have done differently if you had known it was?

Would I have been different? Who cares. This is about you.

I have spent more than enough of my time, re-evaluating everything I did around you. And, I determined that there is nothing I can change, even if I wanted to. But you, you are dead, so I doubt that you've done much thinking about me or re-evaluating what you did to me at all.

Actually, I'm not saying that you were a terrible mom and that you should be ashamed of yourself. I'm not meaning that at all. But I am not saying I forgive you. I don't know if I'll ever just forgive you.

What I really want is for you to be here, right next to me. And I want you to look me in the eyes, and  want you to say that you're sorry. Then I'll forgive you.

But I never get what I want.

Dad has been saying that I'm hard to buy for. He says I never give him any ideas what I want for Christmas or my birthday. And that's true. It's not because I don't know what I want. I know what I want. It's just the things that I want are things that he can't possibly give me, so I don't bother asking.

 Grayson