Totaled

My parents were divorced my senior year of high school and ever since then my mom's life has been slowly falling apart. One of the earliest signs of this happened at my grandfather's funeral.

Pop died during finals week of my first semester in college. I ended up failing my first college class that semester. Go figure.

I was in my extra-long twin sized bed in my dorm room sitting on sheets of cloud covered blue, that I’m sure had only been washed once in the four months I had been sleeping on them, when I got a phone call from Dad.

“I’m driving to North Carolina. Pop’s been in a car accident and it’s not looking good. . .” he rambled off on the verge of tears.

“Do you want me to go with you? I can go. I’ll get ready right now.”

“No, no. I’ll call you when I know more.”

“I love you, Dad. Please be careful.”

Dad didn’t want Mom to go to the funeral in the first place and here she was trying to get my sisters and I, or at least one of us, to ride to North Carolina with her. This was before it had gotten really bad with Mom and my sisters and I were still really close to her. I was angry at Dad for being selfish. After all, they had just gotten divorced. It had only been a little over a year since they broke the news to us. How could Mom just stop loving Pop as a father like she truly did in such a short amount of time or ever for that matter? As I look back now, I see the silliness of my immaturity and naiveté. Dad knew Mom and her selfishness and what she would bring to the situation.

We followed Dad’s wishes and rode down to North Carolina with him and his new girlfriend, a freakishly devout and disciplined Christian, Kathi. None of us liked her or were comfortable around her. You could see her judgment of us in her eyes. I'm sure it was hard for her to love us. We resented the fact that she was even involved in such a private family matter, and that we had to spend 5 hours in the car with her when Mom had to travel by herself. Mom had a boyfriend too, Dick. I remember one time when I was sick; he came over and brought The Graduate for all of us to watch. He had the most obnoxious laugh to ever be heard, and there I was dying of strep throat on my mom’s couch and this guy with the awful laugh invaded my territory. Anyway, Dad didn’t want Dick at the funeral either, understandably. So Mom was left to travel by her lonesome, or so we thought.

Funerals truly baffle me. I wonder how it is that you are supposed to see all these people, some you know very well and some you don’t know at all, and soothe them through the loss of one of your closest relatives. I don’t know how my grandmother did it. We, all the grandchildren, were seated on the couch most of the time just crying and surely looking desolate. It was the first funeral I’d ever been too and I was 18. I guess some might say I’m lucky.

The wake was at GG's, my grandmother’s, home. After being there for a while I noticed my mother was acting strange. Her eyes were glazed and she had a hard time keeping them open. She slurred her speech. We had only been there an hour when she came to me telling me she couldn’t be there any longer. I told her that I knew something was wrong and she shouldn’t be driving. She told me that I should leave with her if I didn't want her driving. I couldn’t believe she would be selfish enough to ask me to leave my grandfather’s wake and my dad because of her selfishness. I said no. I followed her out the door and begged her not to drive. She did not listen to me. I watched her drive away into the darkness.

Hours later, everyone had left and it was just the family. I had not been able to get a hold of Mom since she left. I left with my Aunt Karen to spend the night at her house. She has always been really easy to talk to. Even though we don’t see each other that often, maybe twice a year, I always feel like we pick up right where we left off. I talked to her about Mom on the way home and told her about Mom’s downward spiral since the divorce. Awhile after arriving at my Aunt’s, she came in to the room where I was staying. She explained to me that my mom had totaled the car she was driving, which happened to be her boyfriend Dick’s. She was okay, of course, and was at the hospital with Dick. With who? Yes, she had brought Dick with her against my dad’s wishes.

She had accomplished what I think my dad feared- making the loss of our beloved Pop about her. Instead of being focused on my dad, my family and the life and love my grandfather had so willingly given to me I was worried that Mom had been killed in a car accident.

She totalled another car this past summer. Her Mercedes convertible that she had wanted so desperately was crushed when she plowed into the side of a blazer and flipped it. I remember being in high school when she found a picture of her dream car and had it hanging on the fridge for months. She finally got it partially as a gift from Papa and partially paid for by my dad. When it was declared totaled it didn't seem to effect her at all.