Tuesday, November 6, 2012

I Know Everything Will Be Alright Tomorrow.....

I Know Everything Will Be Alright Tomorrow...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I saw a Celadon big truck today.  I saw it coming toward us, I recognized the logo.  As it neared us, I began looking for... Tommy.

As it began to pass us, I looked inside to see if the driver looked like... Tommy.  Of course, he didn't.  I looked... anyway.  It seems like I've begun going through a 'Tommy Time', again.

This morning when I showered, dressed to get ready to leave the house... I found myself wearing Tommy's jacket.  It's navy blue, has a gray lining, and the Arctic Express logo on it... he used to drive for them years ago.

I felt comfort wearing it today.  I haven't been in the best mood today.  I've tried not to feel 'mad'.  Sometimes, 'this' happens and I try not to give in to it.  I don't want to feel ... mad.  But, I did for a few minutes... I have to tell the truth.

I kept seeing Tommy's smile in my mind today... how his eyes would light up when he saw Skip and I... like we were so special to him.  How his eyes would soften with such love when he would look at Taban, or McKenzie.  Tommy loved his son, his daughter... and us.

I kept thinking about the last days 'just before'... how he must have been feeling, going through just before... he died.  I wondered 'how in the world' did he function, do the things he did... he had two blockages in his heart.  It seems someone would have known, seen... 'felt' something.

There are so many things I think about 'before'..... 'after' Tommy's death.  Things that hurt me deeply, for now... I can't put all into words.  I haven't forgotten.

I thought about the powerful medicine I took beginning the night of Tommy's death.  I've never taken anything like that before.  I understood something I'd never understood before when someone died.... how a mother/father/spouse could act so 'normal'... and not be crying at the funeral.

I understood later, that the powerful medicine is 'why' they could function 'normally'..... and seem to be handling, coping with the death of their loved one.  How does it do that?

The medicine was so powerful that I almost overdosed on it.  Skip begged me not to take it... I worked hard to try not to.  It wasn't that I was addicted to it.... I couldn't bear the pain of knowing my child had just died.

My mind stayed in agony whenever I wasn't taking it.  I slept for many weeks... deeply.  I was in the dark world I've told you about.  I traveled so long in darkness... I couldn't see life around me, if I had died then... I would have never felt fear.  I'm the one who wants to live, I love life.

I almost.... made it all go away... forever.  Almost made that pain stop... forever.  I've never known such pain in my whole life... and I know pain intimately.... I've known it since being a little girl.  Skip was afraid for me... I wasn't ... afraid for me, I just wanted to stop the ... pain.

I vaguely remember something 'stupid'... one of Tommy's friends came from Wilmington.  He asked if we had an extra phone charger... I remember I wanted to give one to him if I could find it.  I searched, found it, gave it to him.

I remember him saying something about putting a red tie on Tommy, and for some dumb reason... I agreed, I understood what he meant.  Of course, he didn't do that.  He and Tommy joked, played, worked together for years and they would have done such a thing... it was 'them'.  Being on that powerful medicine... I could understand..........

That medicine... so potent it was.  I've thought about it through time.... I think when someone is taking it... they should have family, loved ones to protect them.

The medicine affected me in a way that I wanted to be very helpful (like going to search for a phone charger), I could understand why Tommy's friend joked about a red tie.... I'm sure I wouldn't have minded him putting it on Tommy in memory of all the joking, laughing, cutting up, playing they did.

I've often thought that anyone could take advantage of people who take such a medicine to calm them, to make them so.... so able to cope while under its influence.  I know it made me want to give things away, to please...... and my son .... had just died!  I was in another world walking around... 'acting normal'... how can medicine be so powerful?

These are some of the things that have been on my mind today... sometimes, I wish I could take that powerful medicine to numb my mind in times such as this....  I really don't wish that at all.  As much as the pain hurts... I will meet it ... head-on.  I'm used to coping with pain... though it still doesn't stop it from hurting me.

I'm going to bed now, my dear readers.  I want to rest my weary mind.  I know everything will be alright tomorrow....

1 comment:

  1. I agree that Tommy was a big joker! I remember what he told me when you had your fruit stand open. His exact words were: "funny how Armorall can make an apple shiine so good ain't it"? Then he said, "just kidding"? I about fell out laughing. Can't you just hear him saying that? He was definitely a funny and fun person to be around. You can be proud of your son because I think you did a fine job on raising him! Love, Ms. Nancy