It sounds like the first line or a title to an old southern blues song. One of the songs I would sing along with at the top of my lungs while driving to pick up my baby from her day at Kindergarden. I wish it was a song. Today, I can turn it into one, because I experienced it and that’s where all writers, songwriters included, get their material.
(Read this to the tune of Led Zeppelin’s “You Shook Me”, clearly inspired by the American Southern Blues)
My baby made me cry today.
But she ain’t a baby no more.
She’s five years old.
When did she become so cold?
This is not a post I intended to write today. I’m still in shock. I have had all of these great ideas for posts and have been jotting down my thoughts, but, readers, my health has taken a turn for the worse again and all I can seem to do is sleep and even that seems like work because it’s a tortured sleep. Night sweats, chills, fevers, vivid dreams.
I’m sick again.
I hate to write it because I can’t believe it. It hasn’t been confirmed by anyone other than me and my own body. My doctor is on vacation, but I know my body. This is how I felt right before I started chemo last year. Not good.
A while ago, I told my STILL FUCKING HUSBAND that I would take our daughter for half of this weekend, being Easter and all, I wanted to spend some time with her. This morning I woke up and felt like dying. I called him to inform him I would have to take back my offer to care for her today. I was too sick. A few minutes of verbal abuse later, I told him to forget it. I could handle it. But really, I can’t.
She was so excited to color Easter eggs. I pretended to be. I pulled out the eggs, nine cups-one for each color tablet, the vinegar and measuring cups for the water. Boiled the eggs, let them cool, made the color solution, helped her drop each egg carefully into the color of her choice, pulled out the decorations, watched the eggs for color while she found interest in something else, took them out of the nine cups to dry and took an unexpected nap.
She woke me up a while later saying I had taken a long rest and she wanted to decorate the eggs. I had slept for a while-just under 90 minutes. I groggily made my way to the kitchen to help her decorate the eggs when, with her back turned to me, playing with the kitchen magnets, she began to mock my illness.
She was making fun of me.
She was being a mean girl.
“I’m Mommy. I’m soooooo sick. I’m tired. I need a rest. I have band-aids on my arms.”
I turned around. My eyes welled with tears. I put the blue egg on the kitchen table and began to walk away. She called after me “Mommy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mommy.” I continued to walk into my room, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t turn around. I closed and locked my bedroom door, curled back under my covers and sobbed and sobbed. I could hear start crying too. “Mommy, please, I was just being funny, Mommy, please, let me in, please, I’m so sorry.”
Of course, I pulled myself up and let her in the room. Wiped my face with a tissue and gave her a hug. I told her if I had one wish it would be to get better. To not be sick anymore so I can have lot of energy. I told her it made me sad when she teased me about being sick. I asked her not to do it again. She promised and promised and begged me to forget all about it. I promised her I forgave her and I would forget all about it.
But I’ll never forget.
All day, my eyes have been randomly filling up with tears. Sometimes, they spill over and I have to quickly wipe them away, sometimes, I just let them slide down my cheeks onto my dirty NY Yankee’s sweat shirt. Sometimes they just fill up and I blink them back like I’m doing right now.
I know, she’s just a kid and she is truly sorry for how she hurt me, but honestly, it’s hard for me to forgive her right now. I look at her trying so hard to make me laugh and all I keep thinking is “it’s 1:30, 1:55, 2:30, 3:00… I can do this. After dinner, time flies by. Soon it will be bedtime…”
Today was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be memorable. And the only memory I will ever have of her fifth Easter is that she made me cry.
My baby made me cry today.