Page 116 of Salute, To Bravery
“What are you working on tomorrow, or are you even allowed to say?”
“A new movie,” she said. “That’s all I can say.”
“Okay. Well, goodnight, Grandma.”
I heard her laugh.
“Goodnight,” she yawned and hung up.
My stomach growled. That was when I realized how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten since two, and it was around nine. I walked into my kitchen, opened the fridge, and found some chili that my step-mom had made. I opened the container and inspected it for mold. There was none, so I placed it into a bowl andpopped it into the microwave. A few moments later, the beeping announced that it was done, and I ate the deliciously spicy chili.
After I finished my chili, my phone played my mom’s favorite song. My mom was calling.
“Hey,” I answered as I shut off the TV.
“Hey, honey. How was your day?”
“It was good. I went to group therapy and met a new girl.”
“Oh,” she said curiously. “Does she like girls?”
“Mom!”
“What? You’re so lonely up there with your cat, especially since Arlet decided to move to New York. The only people near you are your dad and your stepmom. Your dad is great and everything, but it’s still lonely.”
“I have the animal shelter,” I retorted.
“Work doesn’t count. It pays the bills and gives you fulfillment. Just because you work doesn’t mean you aren’t lonely. It’s just you and your therapy group as your support system; that’s a little sad, honey,” she remarked.
“Wow, way to let me down easy,” I said as I walked to the kitchen with my dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.
“Honey, you need to hear it. You need to put yourself back out there. Your life has been so hard, and I feel responsible for that. I’m sorry, but you need to find someone who gets you. You deserve that.”
“Thanks, Mom. And could youpleasestop bringing that up? It’s been years. You can stop feeling guilty now. You deserve that.”
“I will never stop feeling guilty, I know my emotions were valid and all of that, but you should have never found me like that. You should have never seen me at my worst. I wish someone else could have,” she said, her voice somber. “How have the nightmares been?”
“I haven’t had any in the past few weeks. It’s nice, but I know the next wave of nightmares is going to be bad.” I placed the call on speakerphone and fidgeted with my fingers. “I can just feel it, you know. I understand the group is there, but no one has had a parent who has, well, you know.”
“Tried to commit?”
“Yes.” Anxiety started to seep into my skin as I heard the words.
“I’m sorry.” Her words came out barely a whisper.
“Don’t be. You thought you had no choice,” I remembered finding her on the floor seizing. I shook my head, trying to shake the memories away.
“I will never stop being sorry.” Silence ensued, heavy and constricting like a boa constrictor encircling my neck. I didn’t know if it was the anxiety or the emptiness in between objects.
“I have to go now, my ice cream is going to melt,” I lied. I needed an out, and that was the only one I could find.
“Okay, honey, I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Then, the call ended.
A shaky breath left my mouth. Tears swelled in my eyes, making my vision blurry.
Why did she have to bring it up every time we talked?Thoughts and questions started to race through my mind. One hit me like a tsunami,Why wasn’t I enough to keep her alive?
