An Odd Morning

Early morning darkness still surrounded our beds when I woke up to his cries. The puppy had woken up at 5.30 like clockwork and was getting restless sitting in his crate. We lousy humans could simply choose to sleep an extra 10 minutes while that privilege didn't exist for him. I rolled around in bed, expecting my mother to tend to his needs, the way it usually is. But why weren't his cries being followed by the sound of his crate door opening or the food bowl being rattled?

I opened my eyes and realized that no, the kitchen light wasn't on. Nor was the milk slowly simmering on the stove. Mom was still in bed. Was she having a lazy Sunday? Was she maybe unwell? I got out of bed because I felt guilty expecting certain services out of her. Was this the patriarchy speaking on my behalf? No, we just had this set up at home that works for us... right? I hope the feminist in me is not too angry. 

I turn on the kitchen light and carry my restless puppy to the backyard. He is happy with the attention and starts doing his business and going about his day. I creep back into the house, still met with eery silence and lack of movement. This was becoming odd at this point. Mom was a light sleeper. She would never have slept through his barks and my noises unless she was sick. I go into my parents' room and slowly call out for her. No response still. Dad's snoring was the only sound present and I slowly got accustomed to the low light to see my mother's silhouette bundled up in her blanket. She was covered from head to toe as it was one of the more chillier mornings of June. I try not to shake her awake because she gets startled easily and panics along with it and I didn't want her morning to start that way. I try to focus on her body but felt uneasy. I wasn't sure but it seemed like her body wasn't moving.

Her white blanket and unmoving body almost reminded me of a funeral. His funeral to be exact. 

Was this how it would be? It was her dream to go without pain or fuss. So maybe I should be happy about this? But all I could feel was panic and fear. I inched closer to her body willing it to move with all my heart. I called her name again. Still no answer. I was almost too sure by this point. fear gripped me hard and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. 

No. I was not ready. I was not okay with the way she decided to go. I couldn't handle the loss of both mom and son. I already barely accepted his loss.

I didn't care if she was startled. I would have given my right leg for that to be the outcome by then. I place my hand on her head and call her name out more loudly. She slowly stirs awake and turns to me, still groggy.

"Why aren't you up!?" I demanded. I couldn't wait for the panic to subside before I blurted it. She didn't know how worked up I had become. It was too hard to hold the tears back by then. I broke down quietly in my room, the fear slowly taking its chokehold off of me. I let myself understand that the reality was not what I had thought up, although I realized it wasn't as far-fetched as I would like. Death had a nauseating effect on me now and the puppy barked in joy as mom went and pampered him anew.