so i thought i would take a stab at implementing a blog trend that suits me a little better. as such, i bring you...memory monday...a day in which, i take a few moments to reflect on the past. i will caveat this up front to say that my memory is not perfect. i will attempt to retell these stories with accuracy, but in some cases, the retelling will include secondhand accounts, and minor embellishments that have taken place in my own head over the years.
in considering what the first installment should be, i started perusing through old photos. i'm sure you will see quite a few of them, but let's start with this one:
pictured (l to r): me, aunt ?shannon or candy?, grandma howells, dylanmany of you do not know this about me, but i nearly grew up without a mother.
in 1979 my father accepted a position writing for jack anderson, well known muckraker and journalistic troublemaker, and my family (mom, dad, me, and dylan) left utah for the washington d.c. area.
it wasn't long after that move that my mother was diagnosed with a severe case of skin cancer. skin cancer, as it turns out is prevalent in my family. and though now it is virtually unheard of to die from skin cancer, at the time, it was possible. medical treatment not being then what it is now, the doctors did not give her an optimistic prognosis for survival.
i don't remember much about the experience, truth be told. i was all of three years old. what i remember is knowing that mom was sick. i didn't understand cancer, and i didn't understand why she had to stay at the hospital for so long. i had been sick too, but cough medicine and sleep usually cleared it right up. i didn't understand why this was different.
i remember one of my aunts (i can't remember if it was shannon or candy) and my grandma howells came to live with us, i think for a couple weeks each, and i remember that at first it felt kind of like a vacation--dylan and i were a bit spoiled as a result of the circumstances--but like all vacations, eventually, we were ready to have life return to normal, and have our mom back again.
i remember going to the hospital when we picked her up to bring her home. she was in a wheelchair. she looked fragile, but seemed so happy to see us, and to be coming home. and i remember that night, i had a dream, so vivid and terrifying that i remember it to this day.
in the dream, mom was in her wheelchair, and dad, dylan, and i were in the car. the car started moving before mom could get in, and dad couldn't stop it. the brakes weren't working and we were picking up speed. mom was holding on to the car, and she too was picking up speed (i'm trying not to laugh as i type this!). we were going downhill, and going fast...mom holding on for dear life, and dylan and i screaming while dad tried to do something, anything to stop the car. i woke up before the dream ended, but the way it was going, it wouldn't have had a happy conclusion.
strange isn't it? that i can remember the way i felt having that dream nearly 28 years ago? i may not have understood exactly what was going on with my mom, but in my 3 year old little brain, i knew something was very wrong.
fortunately for all of us, she recovered.
she lost a large chunk of skin and tissue on the inside of her left elbow, and you will never catch her wearing short sleeves. today, i'm sure they would have done a skin graft and no one would ever be the wiser, but it just wasn't done then. instead she is left with an arm that looks like someone cut a chunk out of it...which is exactly what happened.
in a way, i'm actually glad about that. i'm sure she would prefer otherwise, but every time i catch a glimpse of that scar, it reminds me what i almost lost, and how grateful i am that i didn't.
1 comment:
I am so jealous you are Anne Elliott. I love her! She is intelligent, calculating, and devoted to her love, who is totally worthy of it. You are lucky indeed.
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