Chapter 8 Beautiful Soul - Zane
Across Town
“How is she doing today?” I asked Shannon, the hospice nurse who had been taking care of my mother for the past couple of weeks.
“She’s in good spirits today,” she stated, offering me a subtly warm smile.
Hiring Shannon was one of the first things I did when I made my move back to North Brooke Port.
Learning the news of my mother’s cancer diagnosis physically knocked me down to my knees, and the day Zeke called with the news was one I’d never forget.
He’d mentioned during conversation here and there how our mama had been losing weight at a significant rate, but every time he would mention it to her, she would discount his concerns.
It wasn’t until he found her passed out at home and had to rush her to the hospital a month ago, she finally decided to tell us the burden she’d been carrying alone.
The strongest woman I knew had been battling stage three breast cancer and had made the ultimate decision not to undergo chemo and radiation.
When we found out about her stance on her diagnosis, we both gave our all to change her mind, but she had her mind made up and because of her stubbornness, the cancer was taking her life before our very eyes.
Although she had the sickness, I felt as if it was killing all of us.
“Did you get her to eat today?”
“She took a few bites of a grilled cheese sandwich and a few sips of tomato soup. Just enough to take her medicine.”
Shaking my head, defeat consumed me, and I felt helpless. I moved back to North Brooke Port thinking if I was physically with her, I could convince her to reconsider the recommended treatment, but she still wasn’t going for it.
We were at the point where Shannon was keeping her comfortable and Zeke and I were becoming regulars at Greenhouse Therapy making sure she had enough weed to keep her in good spirits. Yet with all our efforts to make sure she was as content as she could be, it was breaking us to watch her die.
“I was actually headed to the store since your brother is here. I’m going to see if cooking her favorite meal will be enough to get her to eat more than she has been.”
Knowing she was referring to my mama’s love for lobster rolls, I smiled. My smile quickly dissipated when Shannon let me know she wanted to talk to Zeke and me when she got back.
Excusing myself, I headed to the back of the house where my mama’s room was. The closer I got to the room door, the lighter my heart got, and the more joy spread on my face.
“Uncle Zane!” Chasity, Elise, and Paige cheered when I crossed the threshold.
Carefully, each of them crawled out of bed with their grandma and greeted me.
Judging from the amount of caution they were utilizing, I was sure Zeke had let them in on how fragile Mama was.
I didn’t know if they knew she was battling cancer, but even as children, I knew more than likely they could look at her and see something wasn’t quite right with the woman who on the average day didn’t have a problem keeping up with the best of them.
After I showered each of my three nieces with an equal amount of love, I hugged Zeke, and then proceeded to greet the most important person in the room.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Hey, Toon,” she greeted with a weak smile, referring to me by the nickname most people in my family called me due to how animated and cartoon-like I was when I was younger.
“How are you doing? Shannon told me you’re barely eating again.”
“I swear that girl snitches more than my students used to,” she fussed, rolling her eyes, referring to her days as an elementary school teacher.
“Mama, she’s not snitching. She’s doing her job,” Zeke reasoned, defending the woman who had been using her skills and experience to take care of her around the clock.
“Tas, I didn’t ask you,” she sassed, calling him his childhood nickname which was short for the Tasmanian devil due to how bad he was when we were younger. “Anyway. Did you bring me something?” Mama questioned, looking at the bag in my hand labeled with Greenhouse Therapy’s logo.
Without hesitation, I handed her the bag of goods I’d gotten for her, and the first thing she pulled out was one of the infused brownies, tearing through the wrapper and taking a massive bite out of it.
“Can I have some, Granny?” Chasity innocently asked.
“No, sweet pea, you can’t have any of this. This is for grownups.”
“Aww, man. Grownups have all of the fun,” Chasity pouted.
“You’ll have all the time in the world to grow up. Enjoy being my sweet pea for a little while longer, okay?”
The heaviness of her words struck something in Zeke, and when I glanced at him, he was swiping away a tear.
“Y’all keep your granny company while I talk to your daddy outside,” I requested, motioning with my head in the direction of the door so he could follow me out.
Stepping on the front porch of our childhood home, we both took a deep breath.
“Man, this is killing me,” Zeke spoke. “I’m trying to be strong because I know it’s what she needs me to be, but damn, man,” he expressed, looking up to the sky as if the simple gesture would stop the tears.
“I know, man. I know,” I stated, mentally debating on the best way to console him in the moment, ultimately deciding to let him freely have his moment without interruption.
“The girls have been asking to see her, but I’ve been keeping her away because I didn’t want them to have to see her like this, but on the other hand, I would never forgive myself for keeping them away and then something happen. You know?”
“Yea, I know,” I affirmed, doing my best to disregard the overwhelming guilt I had in relation to the reality my mama would more than likely not have a chance to meet my children.
Time was a crazy aspect of life. You could make plans and work toward goals, and God had a special way of reminding you through the use of time that you’re never in as much control as you think.
Standing in silence, I allowed guilt and my thoughts to tag team and have the opportunity to consume me.
If I wouldn’t have been so focused on my legacy, I would’ve been settled down with a wife and kids already.
My wife and our children would have had time with my mama, and she wouldn’t stand the chance of merely being a picture in a photo book when they were old enough to ask about her.
It bothered me deeply, and sadly, there was nothing I could do about it.
***
Later That Night
Staying true to my word, I called Tarana to let her know I was leaving my house and heading in her direction.
To my surprise, we lived in the same private neighborhood and only stayed a few streets apart. We were so close in proximity I could step outside and see the top of her house from my back patio.
Even with the news Shannon had given Zeke and I before we left, I was still determined to take Tara out. I felt guilty for leaving but if anything, I knew my mama wouldn’t want me staying by her bedside all night, although that was exactly what I wanted to do.
When Shannon pulled us to the side and let us know our mama had about a month left to live, it seemed to be the final blow before the ultimate devastation.
At sixty-five years young, I still felt like my mama had many, many, many years left of life in her, but time and her deteriorating condition proved me to be wrong.
Her birthday was five months away, and sadly we didn’t know if she would make it to see sixty-six. Though I had faith in God, I couldn’t miss the look of peace in her eyes. I could tell she wasn’t fighting, and in her condition, fighting would make all the difference.
While a part of me was still angry about not only her refusal to receive chemo and radiation, but her choice to keep it from us until it was too late to do anything outside of being forced to watch her die, I wanted to be there like she had always been there for me.
After receiving the news from Shannon, Zeke and I had made the decision to move back into our room so we could be as close to her as possible until the end.
Doing my best to focus on the night ahead instead of the journey beyond, I grabbed my keys and headed the short distance to Tara’s house.
In true gentleman fashion, I wanted to greet Tara with a gift, but I wanted to stray away from the typical route of showing up with flowers and chocolate.
As I pulled into her empty driveway, I was hopeful she would be more appreciative of the envelope resting in the passenger seat than any bouquet of flowers I would’ve purchased for the night.
Even though I was far from a stranger when it came to courting and intentionally getting to know a woman, the sweat moisturizing the palms of my hands reinforced the aspect of Tara being in a different league than the women I had pursued in my past. I wanted something different from her than I wanted from any woman. I wanted something more.
After ringing the doorbell, I retrieved a handkerchief from my pocket, wiped my hands and quickly sanitized them utilizing the hand sanitizer I never left home without.
I wasn’t what people would describe as a germaphobe, but as a professional athlete, there was always someone wanting to take a picture or shake my hand, so it was easier to keep it on me.
“Good evening,” Tara greeted as she opened the door looking like a breath of much needed air.
“You look amazing,” I complimented, admiring the sleeveless, crimson red cocktail dress she seemed to be poured into and the complementing red and black heels which had her standing a little taller than she would have on an average day.
“Thank you, Zane. You look mighty dapper yourself, she complimented, modestly taking in my appearance which I chose to keep more on the casual side, opting to wear a red and blue printed blazer, a black collar shirt, and a pair of dark tailored jeans.