Addie's Rose, Donna Green [e books free to read TXT] 📗

Addie's Rose

Addie

Of all the people I’ve met in my lifetime, those who have influenced me good and bad, those responsible for me becoming the person I am today, I have to tell you about Addie.

Addie is unique, a different kind of person. She’s warm, loving, loyal, at times a good listener, and always a good talker. She’s very passionate and if given a chance, people would see these things in her. She’s a laid-back, t-shirt-and-jeans kind of person who’s as comfortable sitting around a campfire in the middle of the woods as she is dressed ‘to the nines’ having dinner in a four-star restaurant with judges or ministers.

Addie believes everything in life happens for a reason and everything will eventually take care of itself and consequently work out. Though she doesn’t want many frivolous things, she’ll do what it takes to take care of her needs. She knows that by doing that, her wants will take care of themselves. She is remarkable – she knows the difference between needs and wants, and she knows what she wants and how to get it.

Although a warm and loving individual, this woman has a mischievous side that could scare the white off rice because you never know what is going to follow that infamous phrase that simultaneously makes me shudder in terror and makes my heart race in utter excitement at the thought of yet another adventure wrought with danger, thrills and fun, and is always accompanied by the look. Those laughing, dancing eyes so shiny bright and dark the seem to spin in their sockets; that smile that normally starts somewhere behind her eyes is crooked and of “I got the cookie out of the cookie jar” and says, “Hey, I’ve got an idea, let’s do this . . . “ This is usually my cue to run down the street screaming.

I wouldn’t trade my adventures with Addie for anything – not even the one that had us, another friend and a homeless pup stuck in New York City at the tender know-it-all age of sixteen.

Addie is my very best friend, my get in trouble buddy, the best and worst, but by far the most influential person in my life. I miss her sometimes because if it weren’t for her . . . I wouldn’t be me. I haven’t talked to Addie in a very long time. The last time I talked to her was 2002. Life is an ever changing thing in which there are only two constants - we pay taxes and we die, and having said that, I’d like to tell you about . . .


Addie’s Rose

Now I need to tell you of the event that changed my entire life. As you know, I’m from the south, Houston, Texas to be exact: where summer starts Easter Sunday and ends on my birthday at the end of November. Texas is also where I learned more about life by age twenty-one than anyone should have to, but I guess, all in all, that’s a good thing. I mean, He never puts more on us than we can handle, right?

January 7th, (29 years after high school), I returned to school full time because I am determined that, despite growing up in the “dirty south”, all my dreams will become realities, and my parents will be proud of me. My mom was both happy and worried about this decision. She was happy because I am back in school, and worried that either I’d find it too hard and quit or maybe I’d bitten off just a little more than I could chew. My mother, always behind me while telling me I’m wrong. I only hope I can be as great a lady as she is. Allow me to introduce you to this lady, her name is Rose, and that’s exactly what she is . . . a rose – complete with thorns! She is the sister I never had, my best friend in the whole world, and my mother. She always seems to know which of these entities I need and when and I like to think I am all (most) of these things to her. We have the best relationship and everybody calls her “Mama Rose.” My dad, on the other hand, is a whole other story. Anyway, as I said, I returned to school January 7th . . .

January 11th I got the first of a succession of calls. My sister, my best friend, my mother, who is 70 years old and diabetic, has an ingrown toenail (they neglected to tell me about) that has been bothering her for sometime, is now infected and she may have to go into the hospital, o.k. I’m one week into my first semester of a four semester major, as if that isn’t stressful enough, now I need to think about preparing to go home. If I don’t, well I’m the world’s worst daughter and I definitely don’t care anything about family.

January 15th, my dad called me at work and left a message for me to call home. I already knew he was going to tell me she was in the hospital, but I wasn’t prepared for the rest of what he said.

My father told me he had to call an ambulance not two hours after I talked to them on the 11th and have my mother rushed to the emergency room. He said the pain in her toe was so bad, the pain pills they had given her weren’t working, the antibiotics weren’t doing anything for the infection, and on top of that – her toe had turned completely black; he didn’t know what else to do. Then he tells me that they may have to take her toe. I suggested that maybe I should come home, but he told me to wait.

January 16th, “they’re going to peel the black skin off her toe, get down to ‘fresh meat’ so maybe they can save it,” my father tells me on the next call. Toni Morrison knows nothing about waiting to exhale because I know at that moment I sure did.

“Looks like everything is going to be alright, you can stop worrying." All I could say was, “Thank you Lord.”
“When do they think she’ll be able to go home?” I asked.
“Well, they don’t know yet,” he said.
“But, she’ll be alright, right?” I asked.
“I hope so,” my father answered, which left a gnawing feeling in my gut.

January 20th – my father calls and tells me that something went wrong. He tells me that now I need to make preparations to come home because, well they aren’t expecting my mother to make it.

Devastated and obviously not thinking right, I jump in my car, drive to my one job, and to school to tell them I have to go, because everyone knows you can drive somewhere quicker that making a call!

How could this have happened? I talked to her when she was able to talk. She told me about her non-existent trip to Alabama. She told me how good the house in Johns looked and how it was just like it was when she was a little girl. She told me about all the friends she saw at the house, some she hadn’t seen in years-some who had passed on. It was that moment I knew my mother would never leave the hospital and go home. I spent nineteen and one-half hours on the road driving from Minnesota to Texas, pushing, speeding, doing whatever I could to stay awake and get home to my best friend. When I got there, I watched my mother get worse, not eat, suffer, and it hurt me. I realized how much I’d be losing if she were to leave my world. My world is a busy place-but it’s not a bad place. It will however be a lonely place without my best friend, without my sister. My mother was getting worse and worse as the days dragged on and on, when suddenly, she started getting better. My spirits soared, because though she’s not yet eating, she’s finally coherent! I started talking to her about school and the things I wanted to do when I graduate, and she seemed pleased. I told her not to worry about me falling too far behind I’d be all right. I don’t understand why she would worry about school and me while she’s lying in the hospital. I did, however, let her know that if she would just eat, she and I could go home. Two days later, she started eating and holding it in. Her mood got 100% better; she had hope; I had hope. I went home secure and happy in the knowledge that my mother is going to be all right.

Thursday, February 6th - I returned home very tired and very worn out. I called and let everyone know I had made it back and would be returning to work/school the following Monday. Sometime that evening, while I was asleep, my dad called to tell me the doctors want to take my mother’s leg just below the knee and they want to do it in the morning. I didn’t remember the conversation until the next morning when my friend upstairs told me. I had apparently told her what my dad told me and it’s a good thing, otherwise I never would have known. I called my dad and asked if my mother knew. He said he couldn’t tell, but he thinks so. He told me that after I left, she got worse. When I asked if he wanted me to come back; he, again, told me to wait. Nevertheless, something isn’t right. She went into the hospital because of an infected toe; when I get there I find out she’s had a colostomy, (I don’t know why); now they want to take her leg? Gee-what’s wrong with this picture?

Friday, February 7th –Dad called again. I’m beginning to dread these calls. Now they want to take her off Dialysis, it’s his decision. I suggested he think about it and whatever he decides, I’m behind him 100%, but, I do want to see her one more time. I’ll be home during spring break. Spring break starts March 4, I’ll leave the Friday before; I just hope she makes it that long.

Monday, February 11th- they took her leg; daddy says she’s not doing well at all. I tell him I love him. Catching-up and keeping up is harder than I thought, but I’ll do it. My teachers are being very understanding and I really appreciate that.

Monday, February 18th – my daddy called after to a hospice nurse because there is