Page 9 of When the Leaves Fall

DREW

A s I watch the sheriff and first responder perform CPR on my mom, I can see the panic in my dad’s eyes.

“Don’t leave me, Sandy. Please don’t leave me,” he begs her.

Once the first responder arrived, Dad was asked to step aside so they could assist the sheriff. I watched as they pulled out paddles, placed them on my mom’s chest, and said “clear.”

But it doesn’t work. She doesn’t wake up. She doesn’t start breathing. Her face is still blue.

My stomach is in knots, and my chest aches. I can’t seem to catch my breath. It’s like my whole world just came to a screeching halt, with no way to kickstart it again.

Did I just watch my mother die on her kitchen floor?

N ot going to lie, I’m relieved to see Luca back tonight. I thought he said he only had one day off, but I hadn’t seen him since. I thought maybe he was assigned to different patients, but when I did a few walk-arounds in the CCU, I never came across him.

The first night after his shift, I let Dad convince me to rest at the hotel while he stayed with Mom.

But the next two nights, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see Luca.

Now that he’s back for tonight’s shift, I don’t want to go back to the hotel, but I know I will have to fight Dad to be able to be the one to stay.

He will insist it’s my turn to get a good night’s sleep on an actual bed.

And while that sounds amazing… I can’t deny the ache in my chest when I think about leaving. The ache used to be about leaving Mom. But I know now, after seeing Luca again, it’s not about that anymore.

I don’t know when it happened, but somehow in the very short time I’ve known Luca, he’s made a large impact on me.

He made me feel cared for in a way I haven’t felt in an extremely long time.

Honestly, I always had to be the caretaker, playing the part of the responsible older sister to my cousins growing up.

Mom and Dad knew they could count on me, but I know I put more pressure on myself than they did.

I saw how much they took on and wanted to do whatever I could to help them.

To reduce their burdens. Not that my cousins were burdens, but the act of caring for children who aren’t yours more than half the time is a lot.

And as soon as I was old enough, I ran away from all of it. Leaving Mom and Dad to deal with it all on their own. I told myself I was doing the right thing, setting reasonable boundaries. But as I look at my mom, so fragile, I realize how truly selfish I’ve been.

I have no idea what’s next for all of us once Mom is discharged. I don’t know if she’ll be able to go home or if she’ll need outpatient or in-home care. What I do know is that I don’t think I can be thousands of miles away anymore.

Since Mom can sit up a bit now, as long as the bed is propped up or she’s in a chair, she’s been upgraded to eating soft foods.

The doctors told us she lost almost twenty pounds in the week she was sedated.

My mom wasn’t a tiny woman, but twenty pounds is a lot of weight to lose in that short amount of time for anyone.

She can mumble and groan out a few small syllables, but her throat isn’t fully working the way she’d like it to yet.

And she isn’t able to hold her silverware to feed herself.

Dad happily feeds her the mashed potatoes and gravy before digging into his food for the night.

He was able to order hospital food to be delivered at the same time Mom’s was.

Dad fights me over who would stay with Mom tonight and who would go to the hotel. When he ultimately wins the argument, I swear I saw a dash of disappointment on Luca’s face. I stay as long as I can before Dad insists I go eat real food and get some rest.