Beck
I’m in hell. That has to be the only logical explanation. My panic attack has reached new levels of drowning. I can feel the weight of the pain of knowing I won’t see my mom again waiting to finally crash down and simply end me.
The lump in my throat is astronomical. All I can do is stare off into the void as I listen to the nurses as they do their jobs.
The headache she mentioned last night only got worse and worse. They did everything to keep her as comfortable as possible, but about two hours after I got here, she passed in her sleep.
Her head nurse, Jamie, assured me that because of the care I was able to provide, she truly believes my mom had one of the most peaceful final stages of early-onset that she’s ever worked. Not that it makes me feel anything other than this immeasurable pain in my chest—it’s the least I could have done for her.
When they started work on her postmortem care, I somehow ended up in her spot on the couch.
“Here.” My dad holds out a cup of coffee. I don’t even think about reaching out and taking it, but my disinterest only spurshim on. “It wasn’t a question, son. I’ll get you anything else if that’s it, but you’re fucking drinking something.”
“I feel like I’ll throw up anything I drink, Dad, just…please—not right now.”
The sigh he lets out tells me more than enough. “Fine, then humor me and hold it.”
There’s zero energy in me to argue so I take it.
He takes the seat next to me.
He leans back in the seat with a sigh as he shuts his eyes. I know he’s got to be exhausted, I’m fucking drained myself but he seems to be holding it together way better than I am and it’s starting to piss me off.
“Dad, I don’t think I’ve taken a full breath since you called. I’m losing my fucking mind. How the fuck are you so calm right now?”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t even open his eyes when he says. “I’m just thinking of your mother. The first time we met. Our first date. The time she got us busted for making out in her car in a random field.”
I nearly laugh but it comes out more of a choked cry.
Dad finally sits back up, his hand lands on my shoulder. “I’m an absolute wreck, but you know her, Beck, she’d hate this. When your grandfather passed, all your mother did was talk and think of him the way he was before his diagnosis. And she made me promise if this very thing happened that I would do the same.
“Beck, I’m going to miss her so much, but with the memories of her—having you—I can live for the both of us. She will always be with me, and I refuse to disappoint her by not continuing to be the husband and father she made me to be.”
“Fuck, Dad.” I hang my head. I know deep down he’s right. I hate that it’s taken me to this point to realize that I haven’t been the person she raised me to be. “I think I’ve disappointed her. Iknow she said she was proud of me earlier, but if she knew how I’ve felt?—”
“No, you could never, she was always so proud of you. We both are.”
Setting the coffee down on the side table, I run my hands over my face. It’s more than that, and he knows it. “I should have brought Jensen here. She was home and I just…left.”
My dad lets out a slow breath. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie to you…Mom would hit you over the head right now for not bringing her with you, but she’s not disappointed in you.”
The memory of every tap to mine or Dad’s head every time we did something she deemed dumb plays in my head and this time I actually manage some form of a laugh. “Jensen would have loved her. I wanted to tell Mom about her today, but didn’t.”
“Mom would have loved her too, but more importantly,youlove her. Want to tell me why you didn’t bring her with you?”
My knee starts to bounce with every excuse I think of, because I’m an idiot? Because it’s not her grief to deal with? But then I decide on the truth.
“I was so fucking terrified.” The lump in my throat comes up almost immediately. “You were right,” I choke out. “All I had to do was try. I didn’t even realize I was…until it was too far gone. I don’t see a life without her. I love my friends, my team, the game, but there has never been a love that compared to my family until her.”
Dad lets out a soft tsk. “You can’t be scared of love, Beck?—”
“No, I’m not scared of loving her, it’s not that. I’m terrified of what loving me could mean for her. The moment I decided I was going to let that fear go…you called and then all of it came back…I couldn’t even tell her how I felt, Dad. She deserves more than that.”
Sitting up straight, I can’t decide if getting that out in the open has lifted some of this weight off my shoulder or made my looming panic attack worse.
“Beckham, you can’t always have this total control over your life. I don’t know how to help you see this, but you deserve more too. I’m not saying more from her, but you deserve the life you want. I won’t say you should’ve left the way you did, but you have to let go of this fear and guilt.”
I want to believe him, I really do. I’ve never thought I didn’t deserve my career or my friends, but my family is a whole other story. It’s more than not seeing a life without her, it’s not being able to live without her. But I was too fucking scared to tell her that, so I walked out the door because that felt easier.
