Maybe its Mercury in retrograde, or maybe its just the annual anniversary of my moms passing, but here I am again. I helped my daughter move from one apartment to another this past weekend and as I was helping her gather a corner of things, I was stopped in my tracks by the palette I gave her when she took to painting on cardboard. I recognized the colors there, undisturbed. They were the colors of the houses next door at the beach in Corolla, NC, 2004. My mom was ravaged by steroids and radiation, growing sicker by the day. We retreated to a 3 story house, one of the few times we would gather in a large group. Mom was sick. Tensions were high. I sat next to her and we talked about the architecture up the shore (not normal conversation for she and I) and how the perspective changes when you look closely at those houses and the line of the shore. My cousin, her niece took that watercolor to Japan. That day, they taught me how to write my name in Kanji. When we returned home from the beach, mom slipped further and the weather became cold and damp. A yellow butterfly somehow found its way into the house and fluttered around the room. It was the last smile I would see from her. She left in the night, the littlest ones were asleep. I laid my face on her chest listening for the struggle to cease. The hospice nurse gave me instructions and I removed the medical items, we disposed of leftover medicines and I bathed her one last time. Mom had a very Japanese need for bathing. It was a sad time to stop doing what seemed like duty that brought life. Like eating, like dressing. With my sister and a dear family friend , I went to the funeral home and asked them if we could dress her in anticipation of a wake. They were so kind......and so gracious to help. One doesnt know what to expect from a lifeless body. It was mom, but it wasnt. We struggled to dress her...where her hands were stiff in life, they were now soft and giving. With no direction, I looked in a trunk (the only item in the spare rooms closet) and found an old kimono. It was dark, the slightest embellishment on it with an embroidered obi (the heavy sash that circles the ribcage). There was a pair of tabi (the socks with a pleat between the first and second toe, to accommodate a shoe) and nothing else. I have nothing to validate it, but I think it was old, the stitching done by hand and the fabric seemed aged. I will guess it was her mothers maybe. I had never seen it before, and I was always a snoopy kid, if it was there....I would have seen it. I just assumed she put it there for me to find. I wonder how she knew I would look. Surely, she didnt think we would dress her in that awful polyester suit from Kohls, did she? Mom is buried in Arlington Cemetery, on Lenfant Drive, sec 38, nearest the curb. Its been 10 years and I can still smell the interior of the trunk. It smells like wet fallen leaves.
Posted on: Wed, 08 Oct 2014 21:39:46 +0000
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