I remember Mom saying, "Jay, can we talk for a minute?"
And I remember the look on her face.
As much as I hate to think about it, I guess there is plenty worry about in the world. And I wish so bad that I could solve all the problems, but I guess I'd settle for having even half the impact that Mom has had. Does she even realize how much she did for everyone? All my friends -- and can I just mention that I'm still sort of in shock that I actually have friends now -- they all say that getting running water was the best thing that's ever happened to them.
"Sure, Mom, what d'you wanna talk about?"
"Well, I think I have a plan for going forward. I'm hoping it'll help prevent any more close calls with Dad." she said.
Mom laughed; it was just a small one, but still. She kept smiling when she told me, "You always know how to brighten my mood. Never lose that sense of humor, Jay... You get that from your dad, you know."
I don't like to waste a lot of time feeling sad and sorry for myself -- I mean, I'm not an idiot. I'm perfectly aware of the state of the world -- but I try my best to stay positive. Just because my life isn't perfect, doesn't mean I can't have a happy life.
As fast as I could, I pushed past that moment of sadness. And I said, "I'll try to keep the laughs coming, if you'll tell me this plan of yours."
"I only mention that, because it's definitely a good thing that I get to be at home more often now. I'll keep an eye on Dad. I'll just need you to watch him on the days that I do have to go in to work. That much isn't too different from what we've already been doing. But I want you to know that I think you're ready to take on some more responsibilities around here.
"And since you've proven yourself already to be very responsible and a hard worker, I know I'll be able to focus on Dad more. I'll get to spend more time with him and you. And I'll get to see for myself that you can take care of you. And all that will happen while I'm still able to appreciate it. It works out pretty nicely, I think."
She said that last line with a smile.
I sure didn't feel like smiling.
I'm not proud of my reaction... my tantrum, really. Maybe if I hadn't already felt a tug of sadness from before I would have handled it better. Maybe.
I basically shouted at her. Then I added in quieter tones, "I'd think that of all things would make you sad... scared even... I mean that's how I feel." I was surprised she could even hear the last sentence it was so quiet. Being scared wasn't an easy thing for me to admit.
"Jay, I know how you feel. And I do feel scared too. Just try to understand that there was a time when I wasn't sure that I'd stay healthy long enough to... be with you long enough. Now, well I know you can start picking up our rations by yourself. I know you can handle the taxes. Soon you'll get your job assignment. I know you can take care of yourself. I had enough time to teach you what you needed to know. And I even know you've made a few friends. And I have hope that you'll have a family of your own one day.
Let me tell you a story. I'm not sure we ever fully explained how we picked your name. We named you after a bird, not just to start a family tradition, but also because we hoped for a better life for you. We wanted you to be able to fly away from the nest, so to speak. I know that you'll probably always live here, but maybe, just maybe, you can make the nest your own.
So, yes, I'm happy about those things... the possibilities. It helps me find peace and acceptance about what I know is coming. Every day I get one day closer to -"
"Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked.
I sighed before I answered. "Yeah. But I just... don't like to think about it. I can't imagine what I'm going to do without you, Mom. I don't want to."
"I don't want to either, Jay. But we have to. I don't want you to be alone either; that's why I hope you'll find someone someday to start a family with."
"Mom." I whined.
"I don't mean right this minute, but one day. That part wouldn't be so bad would it?" Mom insisted.
"I guess." I admitted reluctantly.
"Good." she said. "Now there is one more thing I'd like to ask you to start doing, if you don't mind. I've kept a journal ever since I've been living here. I wanted to keep a record of important events. After you were born it turned into more. It's the history of our family. I've filled up all the pages of the actual book, but I'd like you to continue it in your own journal... if you want. I hope you do. I mean, you like stories, right? You always have. And that's what history is, it's a type of story. A true story, but those are often the best kind. Will you keep ours going?"
I was a little surprised, because I never knew she did that. I saw her writing from time to time, but I always thought it was for work. We never talked about it. I think she knew what she was doing... waiting to talk to me about it, because she's right, I do love a good story. And the idea of continuing our story was certainly appealing to me. It might just help give me some perspective about things.
That earned me another laugh. "I knew you'd do it." she said. And then with another little smile she added, "You're going to be okay, you know." Somehow I think she was mostly talking to herself there.
It didn't occur to me immediately that I should have started writing that night -- that I'd want to record that important conversation. Luckily I spent so much time thinking, rethinking, and replaying that night in my mind that I still remembered the details now as I wrote them down.
I'm going to do just what Mom asked. I'm going to continue our story. I want to make her proud.