NITE & DAY DAY & NITE
'I will. I won't. I can. I can't.' My head rocks from side to side as I lie on the edge of my new Serta mattress. My Great-aunt Sylvia, my only aunt who has always been great to me, twisted my arm to get rid of my 20 year old coil spring mattress. From the spare room where she was welcome to stay whenever she missed me enough, she swore to me she could hear kerplunks when a coil hit me in the back. Neither my spine nor mind felt anything unusual.
Dreams, frightening dreams, grab me, enfold me, hold me night after night. The t.v. hums even though I keep the clicker on mute. Just enough light holds some of my fears in check. Willing to accept the darkness, I uselessly feel around my bed for the remote that isn't under my pillow, my blanket. It must have fallen on the floor. Foolish mumbling escapes from my dry mouth. 'Let it lay there, Jerk. Go back to sleep, I 'll try. No sense trying.' Glancing up, I am sure the ceiling is about to fall on me and I move closer to the night table, lose my balance and slide to the floor.
'Stand up, Irvin,' I tell myself...and answer, 'I am trying. 'I can't.' It is easier for me to lie on the carpet. Within reach is my blanket. I pull it off the bed and let it fall around me, on me. Wherever it falls will be just fine until Aunt Sylvia comes in, places my crutches where I can reach them, sets up the folding table and uncovers my breakfast. The pungent smell of strong, hot coffee finds its way from under the paper napkin. With a hearty 'Voila' she removes the napkin. A small white vase holding bright, sunny, daisies smiles at me. I do not smile back. I say a simple 'thank you' to my Great Aunt. It suffices. She takes the Golden Syrup from my hand and pours it on the blueberry pancakes she has made just for me. Two pats of butter melt, make a half circle around the berries and are sopped up into the batter. I love these. I hate them. They stain my teeth.
Aunt Sylvia looks a little down-hearted this morning. I feel like her soul mate but cannot bring myself to console her. Before I finish my second cup of coffee, she tells me what I already know. No I don't. Yes, I do. My Aunt has to go home. She has responsibilities but I shouldn't worry, she'll come back as soon as some legal work is in order. Damn it! She won't be back. She's tired of being my nursemaid. I know she loves me. She'll come back.
This time something feels different. 'Irvin,' she says, ' Dr. Morgan called me in New Jersey yesterday to tell me your last x-rays don't show what we had hoped for. 'Your patella, your knee-cap, hasn't healed well. You knee-cap has to be replaced. It's major surgery and will take weeks for you to walk comfortably again.' Aunt Sylvia hesitates, offers me another cup of coffee. I don't want it. Yes, I do. I lean my crutches against the breakfast table and tell her to just get on with it. 'He wants you to call for an appointment to go over what will have to be done, your recovery time, all kinds of stuff.' She puts her arms around me, holds me close and tells me she will stay with me until I can dance again.
I free myself and think out loud.....No she won't. Yes, she will
No comments:
Post a Comment