Allergy season has left me feeling somewhat under the weather today.
I battle this pretty much all year around as I am allergic to dust, mold, and ragweed. Oh and I forgot that I am also susceptible to cat dander and I own two cats despite my constant sneezing and itching, proving that love indeed requires tolerance and Rhinocort.
Speaking of the weather, unfortunately Chicago is living up to its two season reputation. Temperatures plummeted to 30 chilly degrees last night. On cold days such as this, I warm up something to take the chill off and crank up the heat. I bought special chocolate covered marshmallows with peppermint chips to go along with my Ghiradelli white chocolate cocoa mix. A tea light candle is burning inside of my silver kitty head shaped jack o’ lantern.
I walk to my window to look at the lake. No more sailboats, instead just cold and black water.
During this reflective moment, I considered myself lucky. If this had been twenty years ago, there is a possibility that I would have been ill with a sinus infection and sleeping in a house with no heat. The look back and laugh days was what my mother called them. My memory took into account the stark contrast of the lovely furniture that surrounded me with the one simple bed my mother and I shared at 637 N. Central Ave.
No gas, heat no water. Now here I am decades later drinking $6 cocoa with $12 dollar marshmallows floating on top, a Persian cat, and a receipt for the $1850 of rent I just paid.
Next to my window is an original George Nelson credenza I purchased in New York City when I began collecting modern mid century furniture. Inside the credenza is a box containing my mother’s ashes. I would not go there again. I would not take the ashes out and looks at them. That is morbid. It cures nothing.
It was always common for me to want to share everything with my mother. There were times when I would attend a party for kids only. Knowing that we had no food at home, I would bring something back to share with her. Deviled eggs did not make for good leftovers especially wrapped in a Kleenex , stuffed in an eleven year old’s jeans pocket. Still, she ate it and I was happy that I could share my fortune that day with her.
Now, I only wanted her to drink cocoa with me and sit by the warm fire watching the lake. Death leaves you powerless. It is that one irreversible act.
Why us?I wondered.
Why would God take you away from me when I was not finished making you happy? I was not finished undoing all of the hard times we shared. Forgiving God has been a slow process for me. He knew how much it meant to me to make mother happy. To make her having me and not getting an abortion worth it. Just when I was prepared to give her the life she wanted, he took her.
My good fortune wasted, all that is left is cocoa, cats, marshmallows, and ashes.
Autographed Letter Signed,