Sometimes I wonder...

Sometimes I wonder what a wreck I would be if PJ wasn't in my life right now.

On Saturday, PJ and I went to my parents (John had to work).   We were talking about Christmas Eve, and John and I had previously discussed going over there in the afternoon, before his Aunt & Uncle's, so my parents could see PJ awake, and we thought it would be better than going there around 830 as we always did, since my mom is in the state she is in.  My mom started crying, bawling, how she wanted it to be how it was before, with us coming over in the evening.  Could we change it? Yes.  Of course.  WE'll go there, and go to Aunt Lee's late.  Not a big deal.

But you know what was a big deal?  The fact that when she was crying, I couldn't understand her.  That's normal, you're thinking.  It's hard to understand most people when they are crying.   No - she sounded, and forgive my use of this word, retarded.  She sounded like someone who is unable to speak trying to speak.  It was awful.   Terry started crying.  She said she hated herself.   I was frozen.  Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn't know what to say or what to do.   Terry then called me out of the room to tell me this might be her last Christmas.  Which I KNOW.  Which I bawled my EYES OUT to John about Thursday night.  But to hear Terry say it, I don't know.

The worst part of it is, that I don't want to go to their house instead of John's Aunt Lee's.  Because I feel awful there.  Because it makes me so mad, sad, angry, I don't know.  I don't want to feel that way on PJ's first Christmas.  And then I feel even WORSE that I feel that way to begin with.  What kind of selfish asshole doesn't want to see her own mother on Christmas when she's sick???  What the fuck is wrong with me.  Why when I am sitting in their house, I sit there thinking how it's probably gonna end up being our house, because, well my mom is going to have to be somewhere without stairs real soon.  And how bad is it that I like the idea that their house might be our house??? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME.

I get annoyed that she calls me, leaves a message, then doesn't even give me a chance to call back.  But then I wonder -- did she forget she called?  I don't think memory loss is a symptom, but really, who the fuck knows?    John hasn't seen her since Thanksgiving, and I feel like she's gotten so much worse.  I hate watching Terry help her up the stairs.  I hate how her arms just lay there, lifeless and unable to do anything.   I hate seeing her like that and it's causing me to hate seeing her at all and I am so mad at myself for feeling this way.  But I don't know what to do.