Sophia
I have no idea how I got here safely. Three hours to get from the track to the hospital near Mum’s. I drove to the hospital in a trance, dodging people on the highway. Everyone was going so slow.
I go over the phone call in my head over and over again.
“Sophia Everett?” a voice asks.
“Your mother has been brought into the hospital.”
“She called an ambulance as she was having chest pains.”
Walking as fast as I can down the hallway to emergency, the staff at the reception desk asks me to take a seat and wait while she calls a doctor to see me. The wait is agonisingly slow. These waiting room chairs are hard plastic and dig into my lower back. The hum of the vending machine is loud and obnoxious in the far corner. People come and go in blurs. Meaningless shapes with no hard edges. I keep looking up when ever the side door to the reception area opens, but doesn’t call my name. The waiting room is hot and I’m sweating. Shouldn’t hospitals be colder?
A door to the side opens and a doctor finally calls my name after forty minutes, waving me to come into a small room.
“How is my mother?” I ask, not bothering saying hello. I need an update.
“…we tried all we could…”
Fuck.
“…she experienced a heart attack…”
No.
“…there was nothing we could do …”
It’s deafeningly quiet. I’m disconnect. Disengaging.
The doctor’s mouth continues to move, but I can’t hear anything coming out of it.
He puts a hand on my shoulder and has a detached look on his face.
A nurse comes into my view with some papers while the doctor nods and leaves. She sits with me, a hand on my back. When did I sit down? I am uneasy in the silence. I feel like I haven’t moved in forever. The nurse has gone and come back a few times, a blur of teal scrubs and black hair. She’s brought me a glass of water, tissues, a cookie packet.
She leans in front of me and pushes some flyers in front of me.Grievingis the only word that stands out amongst it all. How can this be happening?
I drive to Mum’s in a daze. I am glad it is late and hardly any cars are on the road.
Standing in the middle of her kitchen, I can see the cup of tea she was halfway through making and the phone sitting next to it. I touch them both. The last things she touched. The rug between the kitchen and living area is slightly lifted and askew. Maybe from the paramedics. Maybe from Mum falling. I tip the half-made tea in the sink and clean the cup. There are a few more items in the sink, so I continue to clean those. I go to her laundry and can see clothes still in the dryer. I take them out, fold them, and take them to her room. I put them away and take in her room before me. Her bed was always made as soon as she got up. Her morning habit, even when she was sick. I take my shoes off and climb into it. Her scent engulfs me. Citrus and berries float around me. I close my eyes, rolling to my side, and all I can see is her face lying next to me.
My phone buzzes and forces me to open my eyes.
One text from Dave and one from Rayna. I was at the last day of testing when I got the call. They both ask if I need anything in their own ways.
My mum back?
A chance to see her one more time before she died?
Is that too much to ask?
I think I message them that she is gone, and they reply to focus on myself and what I need to do, to take the time I need.
What do I have to do? Bury my mother. I knew I would be the one to do it as we don’t have any family left. Aunt Hazel passed away a few years ago, and any family we might have moved away before I was born. But I am not ready for how soon the task is now approaching.
I close my eyes again, succumbing to the smell of citrus and berries around me.
When I wake up to the early morning sun streaming into the room, I realise I didn’t close the blinds. I wasn’t planning on shutting down and sleeping. Making Mum’s bed, I try and collect my thoughts. The hospital provided me with paperwork I hadn’t gone through. I will have to arrange to bury her.
