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Chapter Ten

Addilyn

I pull up to the building that looks like every other one on the block, completely innocent, and yet, it holds my darkest secrets, my worst fears, and a future that I can’t avoid. With tears already stinging my eyes, I look up at the place that I hate so much and wish, for the tenth time this week, that I could just run away from it all. I’d get in my car and crank up the music, driving until I got tired – somewhere where I didn’t have to live with this reality. But I’d never do that – leave her. Coming here gets harder each time, and it’s only made worse by the fact that I never know which version of her I’m going to get when I walk through those doors. She could be her usual happy, loving self – the woman I’ve known since I was a baby – or she could be a total stranger. I turn off the car and climb out, mentally stacking every piece of emotional armor I can find around my already fragile heart before I enter the nursing home on the edge of town where my mama is living.

About eighteen months ago, I started noticing that something was going on with her. She was forgetful and misplacing things all the time which didn’t seem like that big of a deal at the time but it started getting progressively worse until I spent most days worrying about her. She would call me almost every day, in a panic, because she was late for work and couldn’t find her keys. More times than not, I would drive over to the house and find them hanging on the same hook she’d been putting them on for years.

Then, she was forgetting the names of the people closest to us. You could see it in her eyes when she looked at someone, that momentary blank look when she realized that she had no idea what to call them even though she’d known them for years. I was convinced that she had a brain tumor or something that was making her forget so many things, and after much convincing, I finally got her to go see a doctor. That turned out to be a joke anyway. He spent ten minutes talking to us and then said her forgetfulness was due to stress. I wasn’t convinced one bit but Mama made me drop it, assuring me that she was fine.

A few months later, I got a call from the elementary school where she had worked as a first grade teacher for the past twenty years, saying that she hadn’t shown up for two days and hadn’t called in. I drove to her house in a panic, every awful scenario you can imagine rushing through my mind and fear racing through my body. When I pulled up in front of the house, I found her out front – gardening – and certain that it was the weekend instead of the middle of the week. That’s when I knew for sure that something was seriously wrong with my mom, and I forced her to go to another doctor. This one was more thorough and diagnosed her with early on-set Alzheimer’s.

In some ways, I wish it had been the brain tumor. At least, that was operable. Instead, the only thing I could do was watch as my mother was slowly stripped away from me, piece by piece. In the beginning, her prognosis was good. She was a healthy woman in her late forties, and the doctors had no reason to believe that she wouldn’t have many more years with us before the disease took hold. Six months to the day from that appointment, I received a call from a police officer that found her wandering around Baton Rogue with no idea where she was or how to get home. She couldn’t even remember her address. I was distraught, and after I picked her up from the police station and drove her home, I sat up on the couch all night – trying to decide what I should do to keep her safe and too afraid to sleep.

She shuffled out into the kitchen the next morning, lucid, and made us both a cup of coffee before sitting down next to me and instructing me to put her in a home. I refused, of course. She was my mama, and there was no way that I was sticking her in a home. I had already planned on selling my newly purchased apartment and moving in with her so I could keep an eye on her but she didn’t want to be a burden to me, and no matter how much I begged, she remained firm. Her only stipulation was that I keep all of this a secret from everyone.

I reluctantly agreed to her terms but I don’t think I realized just how hard it was going to be going through all this alone. I would do anything to be able to talk to Trey about the hell I’m currently living in as I lose more and more of my mom each day. The automatic doors slide open as I approach them, and I plaster a smile to my face, hoping that today is one of her good days.

“Good afternoon, Miss Burke,” the nurse stationed at the front desk says to me as I stop to sign in.

“Hi, Mari, how’s it going?”

“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” she replies, shooting me a kind smile as I set the pen back down.

I feel a genuine smile pull at my lip, and I nod. “That’s good to hear. I’ll stop by and say good-bye before I leave today.”

“Sure, sweetie. You just holler if you need anything, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a little wave before starting off down a hallway with linoleum floors and an antiseptic smell that I’ve come to hate in the last six months. I know they try to make it seem homey but it still seems like a hospital, somewhere you go to die. When I reach her room, I knock on the door, and she looks up from the magazine in her hand, breaking my heart in the process. She gives me that blank look, and I know she’s racking her brain, trying to remember my name.

“Addy!” she finally says, her whole face lighting up, and I smile through the tears gathering in my eyes.

“Hey, Mama. What are you up to today?” I move into the room and sit down in the only other chair as she sets her magazine down.

“Oh, you know, just going over lesson plans. I’ve got to be ready for a class full of six year olds in a couple of weeks.”

Looks like today isn’t going to be such a good day. At least she’s in good spirits. She’s started forgetting bigger things lately, like where she is or the fact that she doesn’t work at the school anymore. There are days when everything is clear, she is completely lucid but those days are fewer and fewer as her disease progresses. Even her doctors are baffled, only telling me that there’s no way to predict how much longer she’ll still be my mama. After losing Daddy, the thought of not having her around kills me, and I don’t know what I’m going to do when she’s gone, too.

“Did your dad come with you?” she asks, and it’s difficult to breathe for a moment. A single tear slips down my cheek, and I discreetly wipe it away. The hardest thing was when her memories of Daddy started to get mixed up. There are days that she thinks Dad is still alive and other times, she thinks he ran out for milkshakes – the same way he did the night he died – but in the last five months, there hasn’t been one time where she remembers the accident or his death. I suppose I should be grateful for that. The pain from losing him has haunted her for years, and she’s free of that now and no matter how much pain it causes me to lose her, I won’t bring her back into that hell.

“No, Mama. He had to work, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. Let me tell you, baby. When you decide to start your own family, you find a man like your daddy, and you’ll have a happy life.”

“I know I will, Mama,” I say, my voice cracking as I struggle to hold everything back. She doesn’t know just how badly I want that but it’ll never happen. Her disease is hereditary, and I refuse to do this to anyone that I love. It wouldn’t be fair to fall in love with an amazing man and have babies only to leave them like my mama is leaving me. When we got her diagnosis, I lost everything – the family I already had and the family I’d only been dreaming of. All of it was crushed with the doctor’s words.

My thoughts drift to Trey, and I can feel my heart cracking just a little bit more. If I was going to try with anyone, it would be him. It snuck up on me but somewhere along the way, our relationship changed. Now, we’re both pretending that nothing is happening between us like some kind of fucked up “fake it til you make it” philosophy. Maybe if we just keep pretending that we don’t feel anything for each other, it will start to be true.

“My sweet girl, what on earth put that heartbroken look on your face?” Mama says, reaching a hand out to tilt my chin up so she can get a better look at me.

“Nothing, Mama. I’m fine, I promise.” I grab her hand and hold it between both of mine, trying to force away thoughts of Trey and what will never be. She studies me with laser-like focus for a couple of seconds before a knowing smile crosses her face, and she nods.

“What’s his name?”

Blinking in shock, I look up at her, and she just sits there with that “I know everything” smile that only a mom can pull off. I debate lying but let’s face it, she’s probably going to forget this by tomorrow so really, what’s the harm?

“It’s Trey, Mom.”

It’s her turn to look shocked, and she mutters a quiet, “Oh” before turning to look out the window. A couple seconds later, she looks back and nods.