And now we are alone.
This morning at 7.30 we made our way to the bus stop on Burgess Road. Once arrived, Zsolt watched for the National Express while I leaned against a fence with Mom and put my arm around her shoulders. It was clear and cool and traffic whizzed past.
Saying goodbye has never been nice. Over the past five years I’ve been saying goodbye quite often; at first it can be devastating, but eventually the idea of leaving becomes normal. I keep waiting for Star Trek to kick in and transporters to be invented that can actually transport people, not just photons. (Zsolt is correcting me, he says this is called teleportation – but I keep waiting for STAR TREK to kick in, not this crazy ‘real science’ stuff, and in Star Trek they transport everywhere, no problem . . . except maybe once when people were stuck in transport limbo and Jordie LaForge had to figure out the problem with his visor thing). It’d be a true miracle to wake up in Canada, or in Hungary, or in England; just to go there with a thought.
But enough Star Trek side track. (All day I’ve been side tracked, trying to avoid this post.)
Saying goodbye has never been easy, despite how often in happens, but I guess we learn to walk forward and move on. Though my poor Mom, well, she’s my mom – that sting doesn’t subside easily.
No more details, just want to say it wasn’t a fun morning.
Things will now be different. Mom knew all sorts of useful tricks; her being here was an incredible help in my mastectomy recovery and chemo preparation. When I was sick she was ready with a cold towel, cleaning out the bucket, and giving me drops. When I wasn’t sick we’d spend time together, going out for tea, watching films and having fun. I’ve spent more time with her in these past six weeks than in the past four years combined. How’s that for a realization?
Things will be different but they won’t be bad. The routine is established. We’ve survived the first treatment.
Anyhow, thanks mom. You also deserve a gold star, and triple points for love. Thanks very, very much. Plus, just so you know the whole day wasn’t terrible. Zsolt and I bought croissants on the way home, and the man at our fruit stand sliced a fresh watermelon in half for us. I hope your bus ride was okay, along with waiting for the flight. I’ve heard Dad might meet you with a cup of tea in hand, so hopefully he comes through. 😉
There you are. Now it’s Zsolt and I alone for a few days to rest and regroup. Zsoltster has been busy washing the sheets for his family. I have been busy eating watermelon. We are thinking of buying a car next week, but it’s still in the air.
Just the two of us again, for a little while. Nothing wrong with that.
8 thoughts on “Just us two”
Dear Catherine: this side of the pond I saw your Dad and Daniel yesterday at the office. The rhythm of their day with clients coming and going; the mail delivery; the occasional joke; decisions about lunch; the music playing on the speaker located somewhere in the ceiling. I have always thought it interesting how the people we love can have a different day going than us-on sort of like two parallel unvierses.
I spoke with your Dad about an amazing large fish my brother saw when diving in the lake last week…anything about a wise old fish gets your father’s interest. The guys have vacation plans for the family lined up…no doubt some fishing will be part of it. Your brother told me he had been on skype with you and how cool it is you can suddenly connect that way.
There are a bunch of us who read your blogg daily and we continue to lift you up in our prayers.
If there is something specific you need that we can do or send you from here pleae don’t hestitate to contact me by email.
Thanks Sandie. My dad was telling me about that fish – he kept mentioning a fellow spotted a giant fish while swimming in the water, and I think he’s now set on catching something similar. They’re having a great time according to the reports. I’m very glad for it too.
Be happy gal! you’ve all the ingredients for few days of happiness, great mother who did a marvellous “mom’s job”, a lover and no medecine… enjoy!
Makes me very happy to read this post, thx Cat!
For sure Cathie! You know, it always makes me happy to write the posts too. How is your mastectomy bra coming along? Has the shop been launched yet? I will check on facebook.
Hi Catherine! you can read the adventures of this bra on several supports, i communicate a lot, but always in french, is it easy for you to read it ?
Next step is shoot day, i’m always amazed by the generosity of women who participated in this adventure, we’ll be 4 or 5, and i think that it will be a working day, but not a sad day!
Thinking of you, courage fo you’re next chemo,
je t’embrasse bien fort !
Good moms are great to have!
I like the Star Trek transporters, and I’m sure there’ll be a way to do it. A hundred years ago, no-one could imagine the day when man would be flying the skies effortlessly; or having a phone in the car; or doing remote telesurgery. Humm, how about remote telehugs in the short term? That would be cool!
I’m sending you a virtual hug today 🙂