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 Posted: Sat May 30, 2009 7:30 am
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Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 9:50 am
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May 1, 2009 was the 1 year anniversary of my mother's death. It was also the date for the Relay for Life at my old high school, so of course I was going to go.
After I had been there several hours I got a phone call from my stepfather Jud. He sounded strangely serene as he told me that he either had bronchitis or lung cancer.
I'm not really one for hysteria, especially when it comes to things that might be, but I melted down right under an empty outdoor canopy and cried and cried. All I could say over and over was, "Is this a joke? Is this a joke?" and I felt like either it was impossible that he had lung cancer, or it was inevitable.
It had to be one or the other, because how else could one explain getting this news on the anniversary of her death, while at a cancer relay? It was perfect. Far, far, too perfect.
Once he found out that it was, indeed, lung cancer, it really didn't take very long for him to end up in the same hospice as she did.
Do I think that he might as well have wished himself into the grave? Most definitely. He was happy to go. He wanted to go.
And when I think of that, it makes me frustrated and angry. He had no regard for me or what I was going through. Sure he had lost his wife but I had lost my mother, my mother, and I was already in bad shape from the anniversary as well as taking summer classes at college. No pity at all. None.
And so he was buried next to her and I picked a tiger lily from the top of the lavish grave bouquet.
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