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Two by Lucille Santiago
A VISIT WITH MY MOTHER
I didn’t grow up living with my mother, so the times I spent with her, whether they were good or bad, meant a lot to me. There’s something you have to understand about my mother – there was no in between with her. There was either good or bad, and you weren’t always sure what you were going to get. Because of this, the time between our visits varied. It had been about three weeks since I had last seen her.
When I arrived at the pizza place in Norwich, my mom was outside, so excited to see me. She looked better than she had in a long time. Her eyeliner wasn’t smudged like it sometimes was. She wasn’t wearing lipstick that had been smeared on with shaky hands, and her eyes weren’t flickering or half shut. She looked alive. She smothered me in a hug, and I was enveloped by the familiar scent of stale cigarettes, coffee, and the faint smell of an old book. If autumn had a face she would have looked like my mother, with every shade of the changing leaves radiating off of her. She was so happy.
Everything that day was perfect. Our conversation was simple. She wanted to know about everything I had been doing, as if she were trying to make up for all those missed times in my life. It was different from every other time I had seen her. Maybe I am glorifying the memory now, but she seemed to be in a better state of mind than I had ever seen her. The only other time I can remember her being like she was that day was the Christmas I was ten or so. She had gotten a tree and wrapped presents and made dinner for me and my grandmother. To this day, my grandmother compares all mashed potatoes to the ones we had that day, they were so good.
There were stories told that last time we were together. My mother told me crazy stories about her dog, Honey, and about her brothers, my uncles, when they were babies. She told me about a friend’s baby, that she took care of, and how she sometimes called that little girl Lucille, completely by accident. Our talking went on longer than usual, and remarkably she didn’t even need to stop for a cigarette break. Most of the times when I saw her, her hands were shaking, hands with nails bitten to the quick and made rough from the struggle of her everyday life. This day everything was calmer, her mind, her hands. She seemed so relaxed and comfortable.
When it was time to go, my mom hugged me for what seemed like forever, but was really just a few seconds. She told me how glad she was that I had come. I got in the car, and her eyes were longing for me to stay, she never wanted me to leave. She didn’t stop waving until we were at the top of the hill, and we couldn’t see her anymore. When I was looking back and waving I felt like everything was golden, the way the sun was shining on the trees that time of year – it was all just perfect. I couldn’t help but feel that everything was going to be all right. That she was going to be all right. How could I have known that this would be the last time I would see her.
I cherish the good moments that I spent with my mother. The moments that are harder to look back on I’ll still keep close to my heart so I can learn from them. That last visit made me realize that nothing in life is promised. We should be thankful for what we have while we have it. Over time you realize that the little moments that happen in your everyday life are the things that you will remember for the rest of your life.
Lucille is 16. Her mom died when she was 13.
| Life with Grandma |
Sometimes the most important people in our lives are the people that may not always be the easiest to be in a relationship with. For me that person is my grandma. My grandmother isn’t like most people’s grandparents. She’s my guardian, and without her I’m not sure where I would be today. She doesn’t have the luxury of being a grandmother who can spoil me and indulge me and then leave the hard part of raising me to my parents – she’s got me 24/7...
Like everyone’s relationships with whomever their parents or guardian may be, we have our series of arguments and cold shoulder attitudes, but we also have the moments where it’s nothing but unconditional love. As she gets older there is always that slight fear of what might happen if she’s not here to take care of me. Where would I go and who would I stay with? She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and she’s helped me through some of the toughest of times, and I love her dearly, even though sometimes we drive each other crazy.
You see, up until I was five my mother had been raising me and even then my grandmother was taking care of the financial issues. She bought the apartment my mom and I stayed in and paid the rent when we couldn’t, and when I was five and a half she became my legal guardian. My mother had gotten into a bit of trouble with the law and was taken away from me, leaving me with her boyfriend at the time. Every day I would go outside and look around to see if she had come back, but she never did, not to that house.
While I was watching for my mom one day, my grandma showed up and gathered my things and packed me in the car and took me to her house. The first few nights I didn’t understand what was going on. I was too young to understand and mildly traumatized. My mind went blank, emptying itself of everything that had just happened, and it only focused on what I knew would put me in a better mood – my best friend, Galina. Her friendship helped fill a void that opened inside of me where my mother used to stand. The experience left me feeling abandoned and completely terrified of losing someone like that again. My grandmother gave me something that had never before been a part of my life – she gave me stability.
Soon after my grandmother became my legal guardian, she enrolled me in another, smaller kindergarten. At that point learning became a big part of my life, filling me with joy and excitement because the things I could learn felt endless. It was exciting to come home and share with my grandma everything that I had learned that day. We really connected through the schoolwork I was doing. She became such a predominant part of my life that I began to subconsciously develop a fear of losing her, too. I wouldn’t let her go into the gas station or grocery store alone, in fear that once she was gone from my sight she would be gone for good.
The fear was so intense that it still is there even today, not as strong as it used to be, but it still lies inside me disguised as one big question, “What will happen when she passes on?” This fall my grandma had to tell me that she had lung cancer, that it had been successfully removed by surgery, but she was going to have chemo just as an “insurance policy.” Hearing about the chemo really hit me hard emotionally, more than I’d like to admit. I had heard how intense it was and how it really took a toll on your body, and that’s exactly what it did. In a way what happened made me more caring and more sensitive to what my grandma’s needs were. It also brought us closer. I tried to relieve as much stress as possible, stupid arguments disappeared completely, and the most we really discussed in heated terms was homework. She’s through with her chemotherapy, and to celebrate I baked her a pecan pie for her with the help of a family friend.
There is no doubt that every experience we’ve been through has only made us closer. From the time I first began living with her to the time my mother died when I was 13, to the time her father, my great-grandfather, passed away to now, our relationship has just become stronger. She’s been through more pain than anyone should ever have to go through, but because of it she has also experienced joy like no other. She’s opened my eyes to many different things and never has given up on me, and for that I am so grateful.
While I was watching for my mom one day, my grandma showed up and gathered my things and packed me in the car and took me to her house. The first few nights I didn’t understand what was going on. I was too young to understand and mildly traumatized. My mind went blank, emptying itself of everything that had just happened, and it only focused on what I knew would put me in a better mood – my best friend, Galina. Her friendship helped fill a void that opened inside of me where my mother used to stand. The experience left me feeling abandoned and completely terrified of losing someone like that again. My grandmother gave me something that had never before been a part of my life – she gave me stability.
Soon after my grandmother became my legal guardian, she enrolled me in another, smaller kindergarten. At that point learning became a big part of my life, filling me with joy and excitement because the things I could learn felt endless. It was exciting to come home and share with my grandma everything that I had learned that day. We really connected through the schoolwork I was doing. She became such a predominant part of my life that I began to subconsciously develop a fear of losing her, too. I wouldn’t let her go into the gas station or grocery store alone, in fear that once she was gone from my sight she would be gone for good.
The fear was so intense that it still is there even today, not as strong as it used to be, but it still lies inside me disguised as one big question, “What will happen when she passes on?” This fall my grandma had to tell me that she had lung cancer, that it had been successfully removed by surgery, but she was going to have chemo just as an “insurance policy.” Hearing about the chemo really hit me hard emotionally, more than I’d like to admit. I had heard how intense it was and how it really took a toll on your body, and that’s exactly what it did. In a way what happened made me more caring and more sensitive to what my grandma’s needs were. It also brought us closer. I tried to relieve as much stress as possible, stupid arguments disappeared completely, and the most we really discussed in heated terms was homework. She’s through with her chemotherapy, and to celebrate I baked her a pecan pie for her with the help of a family friend.
There is no doubt that every experience we’ve been through has only made us closer. From the time I first began living with her to the time my mother died when I was 13, to the time her father, my great-grandfather, passed away to now, our relationship has just become stronger. She’s been through more pain than anyone should ever have to go through, but because of it she has also experienced joy like no other. She’s opened my eyes to many different things and never has given up on me, and for that I am so grateful.
End
