The Shoe is On the Other Foot

The Shoe is On the Other Foot

 
          “Hi Mom.  It’s Clare.  I thought I would stop by and see you today.  Is that okay?”
 
          “I’m so glad you came.  I was trying to remember the day I met your father.  Charlie was perfect.”
 
          “Daddy’s name was Gus.  Remember?”
 
          “Who?  Oh, Gus, that’s right.  That was his name.”
 
          “Is there anything I can get you?  Are you comfortable?
 
          “Yes, I’m comfortable in this old bed.  The doctor says under no circumstances am I supposed to get out of it.”
 
          “It’s for your own good Mom.  You could fall and break your hip again, then where would you be?”
 
          “I’m not a child Clare.  I know the risks.”
 
          “I’m sorry Mom.  I’m worried about you.  I can’t be here all the time to take care of you.”
 
          “Don’t worry, Clare.  I’m okay.  I want to talk about you.  When are you going to get married?”
 
          “We talked about that Mom remember.  I’m not allowed to get married.”
 
          “Why not?”
 
          “I told you last year why I can’t get married.  I am in love with a woman.  Her name is Annie.  You met her at Christmas time last year.”
 
          “Who?  Annie?  I don’t remember.”
 
          “I know.  It’s okay.  I am gay.  Some day we’ll have our own pink and blue wedding day and hopefully you’ll be there to see it.  Why are you crying?”
 
          “Did I do something wrong Clare?  Did I ruin you somehow?  Could I have done something different?”
 
          “No, no Mama.  You didn’t ruin me.  I am okay.  I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.  I make a good living, I have a wonderful family and now I can afford to take care of you the best way I can.”
 
          “You do such a good job for me Clare.  Where’s your Daddy?  I want to talk to him.”
 
          “Daddy died in February Mama.  It’s June now.  We went to his funeral and you put a flower on his coffin.  Remember?”
 
          “Gus died?  No.  I don’t remember.  How come I can’t remember my own husband died?  What’s wrong with me?”
 
          “Mama, it’s okay.  Relax.  Would you like me to read you a story today?  I brought some good ones.  We’re still not finished reading Gone With the Wind, and I brought some of my favorite poems.  What would you like?”
 
          “I would like not to lose my mind.  I would like not to have to sit in this bed and pee in a pan.  I would like that my dead husband was a memory I could hold on to.  I want to see him walk through the door and I can’t seem to remember that he won’t.”
 
          “I’m sorry Mama.  I can imagine how frustrated you are.”
 
          “You’re a good daughter Clare.  I want you to remember that.  You have done the very best that you can do and that’s all I ask for.”
 
          “You’re welcome Mama.  Now what would you like me to read?”
 
          “Scarlett and Tara.”
 
          “Oh yeah?  Then Scarlett and Tara it is….”