8 Jeannie - Breakfast

I looked through the thorny hedge at the perfect scene before me. A mother and father sat around a dinner table with their three kids. They were talking and enjoying themselves as they ate.

The house was pristine with a large porch and big windows to let in the light. The table was full of food that never seemed to end.

Leaning closer, a thorn pricked my finger. I gasped and put my finger in my mouth to suck the blood. The family continued on and ignored me. I pulled back and looked at the hedge in hopes of finding a way through it. It seemed to stretch for miles. I could not find anyplace I could squeeze through.

Chancing another injury, I peered through the hedge and noticed their smiles. Why couldn’t I get to them? Why couldn’t I join them.

Tears pricked at my eyes. My throat constricted. Why? Why was I so alone?

*****

I jerked awake at the sound of the nurse talking softly to Mary. Mom was still asleep. Sounds from the hall told me the rest of the building was gradually waking up. I blinked and tried to clear the cobwebs. I had slept harder than I had expected, and the sleep was difficult to push aside.

My watch showed it to be seven o’clock. The sun streamed through the windows and gave the impression of it being later than it really was. I was used to being up before the sunrise to go to work. In fact, I was usually at work with an hour under my belt already.

Instead of getting up immediately, I enjoyed the view out the window. There was a rolling lawn that stretched a football field length to thick woods. A truck and trailer were parked nearby with workers unloading the industrial mower to tend to the grounds. A small rabbit hopped into view from around the building and munched on the soon to be murdered grass. Birds fluttered about and swooped around as though dancing in enjoyment of the sunny day. Not a cloud dotted the sky.

I sighed. The world was moving on while we waited on a part of it to disappear forever. Well, there was the cloud on my day.

Whispering a soft good morning, I grabbed my things and snuck into the bathroom. I really wanted to wash off, but there was really nowhere I could do that. I decided to just splash some water on me as I had last night and quickly got dressed.

Once I had my slacks on and my sandals, I brushed my hair and teeth. Soon, the evidence of just getting out of bed off a stiff couch had been removed. I still didn’t like what I saw in the mirror.

At five foot six, I was rather heavy. Ever since I had my first child, I could never get the weight off. Yes, I could have exercised more or watched my eating habits, but I was too busy. Now I was an ugly cow. Oh, I recognized it which was why I avoided most mirrors. Nothing is as depressing as seeing so much fat on your own body.

Coming home always made me feel even uglier. I was by far the heaviest of the family. I was also self-conscious around the others as they could dress so fashionable and go about with no problems. Me? I struggled to walk across the parking lot. This was not good for someone with low self-esteem in the first place.

It was going to get worse today. I’d have to face more than just the two sisters. I’d be hating myself before long. It was a vicious circle.

Exiting the bathroom, I discovered the nurse was gone. Mary was putting up the bed. Quickly, I gathered my own bedding and put it with the bed that was wheeled out of the way. Without saying a word, we prepared the room for visitors.

A ping drew my eye to my phone that I had left sitting on the window sill. A text from Leslie popped up. Reading it quickly, I said to Mary, “Leslie wants to know what we want from McDonald’s. She’s bringing us breakfast.”

Mary frowned. “Wish it was somewhere better. Just tell her to get me a plain biscuit with butter.”

Texting back our order, I finished the room while Mary fussed with Mom who was starting to get restless. The day was calling to her as well.

She settled back down after a bit, and we sat down as well as we waited on Ann. Time seemed to stand still for a few moments.

“How did she do during the night?” I asked. Once I had fallen asleep, I was comatose. The travel had finally caught up to me.

“Pretty good. A little restlessness around two, but other than that she slept. I even managed a few minutes.”

“Good.”

She looked tired. Several days of watching over Mom was beginning to show, but she was one who could push through it and still be strong.

It wasn’t long before Leslie walked in with food in hand. She pushed the door open and began talking before we could see her.

“Breakfast is here. I got through the line amazingly fast despite the crowd.” She sat the drinks down on the dresser and handed Mary the bag of food. “Saw Jill, Bo’s sister. Boy is she getting heavy.”

Mary didn’t respond as she handed me a wrapped biscuit. “Mom did good last night.”

“Oh, good.” Leslie put her purse down behind the chair and went over to Mom. She rubbed her forehead. “She looks rested.” Turning around, Leslie looked around the room. “No coffee yet?”

“No, the nurse popped in earlier but didn’t want to disturb Mama.”

Leslie rubbed her hands on her hips. “I’ll go get some coffee. Jeannie, will you be drinking some?”

I shrugged. “I might.”

Without another word, Leslie left the room in search of the coffee she had to have. She probably already had had three cups at home before she got our breakfast.

The sandwich tasted good and woke me up a little more. I had taken a second bite when Leslie walked in.

“They’ll bring it in a bit.” She moved to sit by me and picked up her own sandwich. “The Seventh Day Adventists run the nursing home. They are very good at keeping refreshments for family, but the coffee will be decaf. They won’t serve caffeinated drinks.”

Yep, she had had her coffee at home. Caffeine could not be ignored. I just continued to eat.

“How did you sleep?” Leslie turned to me again with a mouth full of food.

“Okay. I was tired.”

“Good. Erick will be up later. He can’t drive now that he had knee surgery. Once Celia gets off work, she’ll drive him in.”

“Will be good to see him.”

Erick was the second oldest. He had just retired from his factory job of nearly thirty years. As a small child, I had idolized him. He was everything I thought a man should be. Growing up, I realized that he was human and still thought of him as nearly perfect. It would be good to see him.

Leslie began to tell us about some of the residents and who they were kin to. I began to zone out. I had no idea who these people were. Mary seemed to know quite a few. This was a familiar scene for me - being the third wheel in a family conversation.

Every time the family got together, the majority of conversation was about people I had no clue about. They would talk about who was sick, who had died, who they had seen in Wal-Mart, or who showed up at church. The names were foreign to me. The result was me wondering out of the room and sitting on the porch alone. I had tried a few times to interject and ask questions, but they talked right over me.

I liked sitting on the porch. It was peaceful. I would take up position on the swing and close my eyes. That’s when it all came alive to me.

My ears picked up on the birch leaves brushing against each other as the wind drifted through the limbs. A branch would brush against the house. Birds twittered all around me as they sat high in the trees and bantered back and forth. The distant sound of a car on the main road could be heard as the breeze withdrew for a few seconds. The smell of the snowball bush would dance around the porch and mix with flowers planted around the porch. If the season was right, the smell of fresh cut hay would also be present.

Opening my eyes, I’d see the lush colors of the countryside around me. The grass was a dark green. The fields were a light amber. The trees stood out against the bright Southern sky. A barn in the distance that belonged to a neighbor peeked out from the evergreen trees. The sound of the wind chimes tickled my ears. There I found peace.

Mom waking brought me back to the present. There were no flowers to scent the room. There were no wind chimes. There were only the smells of death and the sounds of the nursing home waking up with Mom.

I remained seated as my sisters jumped up to tend to her. Mom began to cough slightly. They gave her water and helped her get adjusted. I didn’t want to get into the way. They were the experts.

“I dreamed Jeannie came to see me.”

My head jerked up at the sound of Mom’s voice mentioning me. Her voice was weak, so different than the strong voice I remembered hearing growing up.

“You didn’t dream, Mama,” Leslie answered. “She’s right over there.”

Leslie moved to the side so Mom could see where I sat on the couch. Her glasses were on her face and she squinted as her eyes landed on me.

“Jeannie?”

“It’s me, Mom.” I stood up and made my way to her bed. Leslie moved to the couch where she pulled out her phone and read a text.

She gripped my hand. “When did you get in?”

“Last night.”

Mom’s memory used to be so tight. It broke my heart to have to remind her of the things that had just happened.

“I don’t remember. Was I awake?”

“You were, sort of. I got in late. How ya doing?”

“They say I need to be in this place. Where am I?”

Tears threatened to make an appearance. I fought them back and barely won when Mary answered Mom’s question.

“You’re in the hospital. Remember that you weren’t feeling good?”

Technically, she was right. The hospital was a few yards down the road. I couldn’t help the horrible thought the funeral home was right across the street. Whoever planned all that looked for all possibilities for those entering the hospital doors.

“When can I go home?”

How do you answer that question from someone in hospice? Is there really a right answer? It is not normal to tell someone they are never going back to the place they called home. To do so would be cruel.

“We have to take care of you first. Do you want some breakfast?”

Great diversion.

“I could eat a little something.”

Leslie stood up. “I’ll go tell the nurse. I have to run up to the hospital and take care of a few things.”

I noticed tension leave the room that I hadn’t even recognized being there. Mary gave me a strange look. Something was going on that I was unaware of.