6. Falcon #3
“Stop comparing us, Falcon.” My mother’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. When I glanced at her with a perplexed expression, she smiled softly. “You compare me and Mazzie.”
My head tilted side to side. “I wouldn’t say that I compare you and her. I compare the disease. I’ll say that.”
She snickered while her head shook. “That’s dangerous, and you shouldn’t do it. No two people experience lupus the same way. How it looks for me, I know looks different for Mazzie.”
My hand went to the top of my head, then rubbed down the waves of my hair. That was a painful truth that I recognized almost immediately after my first phone call with Mazikeen. It was a song that I wish didn’t exist, regardless of the beat.
“Ma, I know that, but it doesn’t change the fear.
When you flare, I worry that one day they’ll tell us about the protein in your urine or the higher creatinine.
It scares the shit out of me that we’ll hear that word .
. . nephritis.” My body shifted in my seat so that it faced her.
“I sit with my baby at dialysis and think this same thing in her is in you. Yeah, I know your kidneys aren’t affected and that a moderate flare does not mean your kidneys will move toward failure.
I know all that, but it doesn’t hush the fear. ”
My mother’s hands cupped my face, then she pulled my forehead down and placed a kiss on it.
When our eyes connected, hers were warm.
“Falcon, I’ve had this disease for over twenty-five years.
My doctors are on their jobs. They monitor my kidneys, do the bloodwork, and make sure I understand all the risks.
I also do my part with taking my meds, getting the bloodwork done that they order, and reporting new symptoms.”
I gave her a hard side-eye. “Um, Ma, I had to pull out of you what was going on with you today. If I didn’t come over here, you probably wouldn’t have told me.”
With a smirky smile, she responded. “You are not my doctor; you’re my son.” Her hand rose when I tried to cut her off. “Being my son does not mean that you have to live in fear that every flare I have might end up with me sitting in a dialysis recliner next to Mazzie.”
My chest rose and fell with my breath. Her words unlocked a fear that already had a key in the door. That was what I didn’t want. More than anything, I wanted my baby to get a new kidney so that she could have some peace.
During our move, I found a journal that she kept.
The journal was a list of things that she would do on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays if she didn’t have dialysis.
The list saddened me and pissed me off at the same damn time.
Some of the things on the list were so fucking simple.
She wanted to go to these Wednesday brunches that this social club had once a month, middle of the day ice cream, a weeklong vacation.
I didn’t say anything about her journal to her, but I took note of some of the things.
A day would come when all those things in that journal would be lived out.
“I know, Ma. I hate that I can’t fix y’all.” I mumbled the last part.
When Kee or my mother had their flares, I never wanted to embody the power of God more than I did in that moment. I wanted to snatch the lupus out of both of them. Only God had the power to do that.
My mother’s hand covered mine. “I know you do, but that’s not your job. You do a great job as my son and as Mazzie’s man. Trust me, we both appreciate it.”
Her words were appreciated. “I’m taking you to your lab appointment on Monday. She said just to go before noon. Let me know what time you want—”
“Let me stop you right there. You do know that I have a man, right?” Her brow arched higher than the Eiffel Tower. “I don’t need you to take me anywhere. Go take your ass home to your woman and be her man.”
My hands rose in surrender before I chuckled. “You got that, Mama. I’m going to get out of your hair. Expect a call or visit from Dove. I’m calling her after I leave today. I’ll let you tell your man about today.”
She threw her hands up. “Lord, tell these bigheaded children of mine to leave me alone. Let me go take a nap because that little girl is more annoying than you. Her lil ass is gonna wanna spend the night and shit, messing up my di—”
“Nope!” I jumped up from my seat. “That is not what we’re doing, Lauren Coral St. Claire. I’m gone.”
Now she was bent over sideways on the couch with laughter. “I knew that would get your ass out the door. Bye, Son. I love you.”
I returned her affection before I left the house. I pulled my phone out to text my sister.
Me:
Your mama is having a flare but we got it under control. She’s got lab work on Monday.
Sis:
WHAT!! Why wouldn’t she just tell us that? I’m coming over there as soon as I leave brunch with Kee and Lula.
Me:
Tread lightly. She said you’re annoying and she got a man. You better not try to spend the night either.
Sis:
How you gonna tell me I can’t spend the night at my mama’s house?
Me:
Alright now. You gonna FAFO when she tell you to leave so she can get her D.
Sis:
Ew! I won’t try to spend the night.
Me:
LMAO