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The next afternoon, Mom and I made the trip home from Ocean Beach Hospital in silence. I knew she was worried about being home while still unable to resume her normal life. She was upset and worried that it might be a year or more before she could return to work. It was going to be difficult for her to adjust to being taken care of, especially by me.
Before we left the hospital, Dr. Riddles pulled me into his office and warned me that she might become frustrated, and I was going to bear the brunt of that frustration. I actually smiled, and I knew Dr. Riddles was baffled by my reaction, but he didn’t know the kind of relationship we had. I was used to her bitterness and anger; her frustration was normal for me. The thing that was hard to get used to was the new kindness and understanding we were learning. Even so, I was mentally prepared for an uphill battle, because I knew it was coming.
Mom stared out the window at scenery she’d seen every day of her life, but the look on her face was one of surprise and admiration, as if she were seeing it all for the very first time. I wondered if she felt like she’d been given a second chance at life. I knew that was how I would feel in her position.
“You must be anxious to get home, in your own bed. Being in the hospital is exhausting, all those nurses coming in at all hours to check on things.” I tried to breach the silence with small talk, hoping to make her more comfortable and letting her know we were in this together.
“Yes, it will be good to get home.” Mom turned her face away from the window and I felt her looking at me. “I’m grateful that you’re here, Hope. I don’t think you have any idea how much I appreciate all that you’ve done... considering... everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me. We’re family, and that’s what families should do.” I removed my trembling right hand from the steering wheel and patted her bony one.
This was all so new to me, and I never felt like I knew the right words to say. It was a strange phenomenon, getting to know my own mother at almost thirty years old, but knowing she was just as much out of her element as I was made it a bit easier.
I pulled the car into the driveway, turned off the ignition, and walked around to the passenger side to help Mom out. She was weak, and her pain medication made her a bit dizzy at times. She offered me her frail arm, and I marveled at how tiny she had become. This disease had certainly taken its toll on her body already, and she had a long way yet to go. I offered up a silent prayer that she would be able to withstand it.
I helped her inside and, seeing how worn-out she was just from the ride home, led her straight into the bedroom. I helped her undress, which was uncomfortable for both of us, but necessary. I reminded myself that this would all get easier as time passed.
“I know you’re tired, Mom. I want you to just rest. Don’t worry about anything. I’m going to run to Maxwell’s and get some supplies to make dinner. I know you said you’re not hungry, but you’ll need to eat something when you wake up.” I adjusted the covers on her body and placed her cell phone beside her. “Call me if you need me, but most of all, just sleep. Your body needs it.”
She smiled weakly, nodded, and obediently closed her eyes. I locked the front door and made my way to the grocery store. When I arrived, I didn’t waste any time; I grabbed a shopping cart and walked briskly down the aisles gathering ingredients for chicken noodle soup, not wanting to be gone too long. I was placing a bunch of carrots into the cart when I saw Will headed my direction.
“Hi there.” I smiled.
“I’m glad to see you, Hope. I heard your mom got to come home today. How is she?” He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point.
“Wow, I always forget what a small town this is. News travels fast, very fast.” I was amazed that he already knew Mom had been released. That seemed quick, even for Woodridge.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and I noticed that he seemed a bit out of sorts. Come to think of it, he’d been acting strangely when I ran into him at the hospital the other day, too. I hoped everything was all right with him. He was such a nice man.
“How are you doing, Will? Are you feeling okay?” I didn’t want to pry, but he was always so kind to me, and I got the distinct feeling that something was wrong.
“I’m fine. Just been a bit preoccupied with the store lately. Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart. You have enough on your plate.” He patted my shoulder and smiled kindly.
“If you’re sure... I do need to get going. I’m making chicken noodle soup for Mom.” I gestured at the ingredients in my shopping cart. “I’ll tell her you asked about her.”
“Yeah, sure, that would be just fine.” He smiled, but again, it didn’t quite reach his brown eyes. I was concerned about him, but told myself I was probably overreacting.
I loaded my groceries into the car and headed home to begin cooking. I looked in on Mom before I began, and was glad to find her sound asleep. I chopped carrots, celery, garlic, and onions, and delighted in the delicious aroma that filled the kitchen. I wasn’t much of a cook, but soup was a specialty of mine; soup was comfort food.
While my concoction was simmering to perfection, I grabbed my cell phone and sent the e-mail I had been dreading for the past couple of days. I needed to honestly respond to Reena, with whom I’d been strategically avoiding the truth. It was time to own up to the fact that I hadn’t written anything in months and beg for mercy.
I told her that I was slowly becoming myself again, even though that wasn’t exactly accurate. I was actually becoming a new version of myself, and I was still getting to know that woman. I did promise her I would begin working on the new book tomorrow, and I would have the first few chapters to her within the next month. It felt good to tell her the whole truth.
Making a deadline had always worked in the past, and I hoped it would be the motivation I needed this time as well. I was standing in front of the stove stirring the soup when I heard Mom enter the kitchen.
“What are you making? It smells delicious.” She had never complimented my cooking before, so I was taken by surprise.
“Chicken noodle soup. I thought it might taste good to you. I know it always helps me when I’m not feeling well.” I didn’t turn around.
“That was a great idea. You’ve become such a fine woman. I take absolutely no credit for it, of course, just in case you wondered.” Mom cleared her throat. “I messed up terribly as a mother, and I regret it every day.” She spoke quietly and I wondered for a minute if I’d imagined it.
My back was still turned to her, but I stopped stirring and stood stock-still. I’d never expected such a blatantly honest statement from my mother, and I wasn’t sure what to say or do.
I slowly turned toward her and gulped as I tried to form the perfect words in my brain. It didn’t work. Instead, the only thing that came out was, “Don’t say that. You did the best you could.”
“I told myself that for years, but I will say it because it’s true. And please don’t try to make me feel better. It’s about time I owned up to the mess I made, don’t you think?” She smiled timidly, but her voice was full of determination.
“We both made mistakes...,” I stammered, not wanting to admit what she was saying was the truth. I wasn’t ready to feel all the pain her statement brought to the surface.
“Of course we both made mistakes. But the first and biggest mistake was mine. I made the mistake of not letting you into my heart. I held you at arm’s length your whole life. I refused to give you the love and affection a little girl needed. Mostly it was because I never learned how, but I know now that was just an excuse. No wonder you ran the first chance you had.” Mom began to pace, but she continued talking, almost as if she had to get it out before she lost her nerve.
I did my best to really listen to her words as they poured from her heart. “I tried to blame you. I tried for years to convince myself I was angry with you for leaving me, but really, I’m angry at myself for pushing you away. Getting sick has taught me something, Hope. We have no guarantee of tomorrow. So I need to tell you today that I love you. I’m proud of you. I always have been.” She took a shuddering breath as she finished.
Suddenly, I felt as if I were five years old again—that desperate little girl wanting her mom’s approval more than anything. In a million years, I never imagined my mom would give it to me. Layer upon layer of hurt and pain were built up like a wall inside of me. I’d held on to so much anger, using it as a crutch for as long as I could remember. And here she was, asking me to forgive her.
A month ago, I would have dismissed the possibility of forgiving my mother without a second thought. I would have said there was too much pain, and forgiveness just wasn’t possible. Right now, though, looking at my frail mother, I knew I wanted to forgive her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. Not only did I want to forgive her, I needed to. We’d been given a second chance, and I was going to reach out and grab it with all I had in me. There were a lot of things in my past I couldn’t change, but this wasn’t one of them.
Tears streaming down my face, I ran to her and threw my arms around her, sobbing as I poured out twenty-eight years’ worth of pain. My body shook as I held on to her. She held me tightly, cradling me in her thin arms and whispering soothing words. For the first time in my life, I felt connected to her. I had no idea that my mom’s arms could be such a safe haven, and I cried for the little girl who had needed her so much. Mom and I stood in the kitchen as we had hundreds of times, but for the first time it felt like my home. For the first time, I didn’t feel the need to run away.
I pulled away from Mom and wiped my eyes, and I saw that her face was just as streaked with tears as mine. She looked at me expectantly, and I knew exactly what I had to do. “I love you, Mom, and I forgive you.”
As soon as I said those powerful words, I felt as if a huge chunk of my heart shifted back into place.
