Mom was the one who had always held our family together. Even when she was in the last stages of breast cancer, she was the strong one, the one who comforted us, the one who never complained even when I knew she was in pain.
From the time the cancer had been detected over three years before, Dad had retreated more and more into himself. The usual treatments, chemo and surgery, had not halted the disease. Once she was confined to bed, he could barely bring himself to go into the bedroom. He spent long evenings sitting at his desk in his study, staring into space.
I had become the caretaker, doling out Mom’s medications, helping her with her bathroom needs, bathing her when the visiting nurse wasn’t available, feeding her when she could eat, but mostly simply sitting with her and holding her hand. I watched her as the disease slowly destroyed her, her body wasting away to a fraction of its former size and weight. Although I missed a lot of school, I didn’t really care. She was much more important to me than school, so even when she urged me to go, I stayed with her. She liked to have me read to her. I enjoyed that because I was a good reader and because it was something positive I could.
I also took care of Derek who was ten and Teddy who was six. I got their breakfast and supper and made their lunches. I helped Derek with his homework and Teddy with his baths. Most of all, I comforted them when they were sad. But there was nobody to comfort me. Dad should have, just as he should have done his part in caring for Mom, but he was useless, and as time passed I grew more and more furious with him.
Just before Mom died she was very peaceful and was able to kiss each of us boys goodbye. Teddy and I cried, but Derek remained stoic. She assured us that she was going to a better place, a place where she would not be sick, where there would be no pain and no suffering.
Dad stood at the bedroom door watching, unable to approach the bed or say goodbye. When she died and I closed her eyes, Dad turned back to his study and closed the door. He never spoke to any of us again.
The EMTs came and removed Mom’s body while I kept the boys distracted in the living room.
Later, although none of us was hungry, I prepared a light supper and told my brothers we all had to eat. When I finished washing the dishes I went into the living room and sat with them, staring at the TV. I could not have said later what was happening on the tube; my mind was too full of memories and sadness and anger.
At seven-thirty, I took Teddy upstairs, bathed him and put him to bed. Teddy clutched his bear, also named Teddy, tightly to himself and cried some more while I sat beside him gently stroking his back.
“She loved us all very much,” I said. Teddy nodded. “Even though she’s not here, we still have wonderful memories and she wouldn’t want us to be sad.”
“Do you think she’s watching over us from heaven?” Teddy asked.
“I’m sure of it,” I answered, even though that wasn’t true because I didn’t believe in heaven or hell and any belief I had ever had in God had disappeared with Mom’s sickness. “Tell her goodnight and then try to go to sleep,” I said.
“Goodnight, Mommy. I miss you!”
I rubbed his back a few minutes more and then went out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar in case he woke up in the night.
When I returned to the living room, Derek asked quietly, “What’s wrong with Dad? Is he sick too?”
I sighed, feeling the anger boiling up inside me. “I have no fucking idea. I don’t think he’s sick but he should be helping us. I’m really pissed off at him.” We sat in silence until I told Derek that it was time he went to bed. “Just because Mom’s not here, you’re not my boss, Gregory,” he grumbled.
“That’s so,” I said, “but we all need to try to keep up some kind of routine because it’ll help get us through these next few days.”
Grumbling, Derek got up and slowly climbed the stairs. Halfway up he stopped and asked quietly, “Gregory, will you tuck me in?”
“Sure. I’ll be up in five minutes.” Five minutes later I went upstairs and into Derek’s room. Turning off the overhead light, I sat with Derek as I had with Teddy.
“Is Teddy OK?” asked Derek.
“He will be I think. He just needs time, like we all do.” Derek nodded his head. “Do you want me to read a little to you before you go to sleep?” I asked.
“Yes, please.”
I picked up Treasure Island and found where we had left off. I guess I read for nearly half an hour before I realized that Derek was asleep. Quietly I closed the book, turned off the bedside light, and went into my own bedroom. After getting ready for bed, I turned off the light and tried to go to sleep.
Later in the night, I lay tossing and turning, still awake. I turned on the light beside my bed and tried to read, but that didn’t help. So once again turning off the light I rolled on my side, silent tears running down my cheeks.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, Teddy was standing by my bed, prodding me gently.
I sat up and asked, “What’s the matter, Teddy?”
“I can’t sleep. Can I get in with you?”
“Sure,” I replied, moving to one side so there would be room. Climbing in, Teddy gave me a kiss on the cheek and lay hugging me. Before I realized it, he was asleep.
Poor little guy’s exhausted, I thought. I was intensely aware of the warm little body hugging me closely and I resigned myself to the fact that I probably wouldn’t sleep any that night. I lay awake, frequently glancing at the clock as it moved ever-so-slowly toward morning.
Just as the clock showed 3:00 AM, an explosion boomed from downstairs. I sprang out of bed. Telling Teddy to stay where he was, I raced into the hall, where I met Derek.
“What happened?” Derek asked.
“I don’t know. Go in and stay with Teddy.”
I ran down the stairs and stopped at Dad’s closed study door. I knocked but there was no answer. Slowly, I opened the door, afraid of what I would find.
Dad was in his chair slumped forward onto his desk. The back of his head was blown away, and the top of the high-backed chair was splattered with blood. In his hand was his magnum, his favorite pistol.
There was no need to make sure that Dad was dead. I froze there, shocked. “You bastard!” I finally yelled. “You God-damned, fucking, selfish bastard.” Finally getting hold of myself I closed the den door, went into the kitchen and called the police.
Then turning, I saw my brothers standing behind me. I guided them into our living room, where, in a low voice Derek asked, “What happened?” so I told them, although I left out the details about the blood and the mess.
“Why did he do that, Greg?” asked Teddy.
“I don’t know,” I answered angrily. Teddy cringed from my anger, so I put an arm around him and said, “I’m sorry, Teddy. I didn’t mean to scare you and I’m not angry with you, but I’m furious with Dad.”
“Why?”
“Because he chose to leave us alone with nobody to care for us or help us. It was a stupid, selfish, cowardly thing to do.”
The doorbell rang so I scooted the boys back upstairs and told them to wait for me before I answered the door and let in the police. I briefly told them what had happened and they took over.
When I went back up to my bedroom, Derek asked, “So what happens now?”
“Do you mean with us?” I asked. Derek nodded. “The only thing I can think to do is to call Grandpa, but even if he comes right away it’ll take him awhile.”
Mom was the only one who had kept in touch with Grandpa, so I went to her bedside table where I found his number, and called. The phone rang for a long time before a grumpy voice on the line said, “What!”
I told Grandpa who I was and what had happened and he promised to come as soon as he could.
The police had called a social worker. When I told her about Grandpa coming, she said she would stay until he arrived.
Once Dad’s body was removed and the study sealed, I suggested that the boys go down for an early breakfast. None of us was hungry but at my urging they tried to eat a little as the social worker sat with us, quietly questioning us about our parents and our grandfather.
After rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, I tried to interest them in a game of Monopoly, but we soon abandoned the game and just sat in the living room, Teddy hugging his bear and nobody speaking.
At noon we again went through the motions of eating, with little success. I kept trying to think about what we should do, but my anger blocked any rational thoughts.
Grandpa arrived in the afternoon, talking briefly with the social worker who remained while Grandpa immediately took over. First he told us how sorry he was about what had happened. Then he announced that we would be moving up to his farm in New Hampshire. He made arrangements with the minister and the funeral home, got a notice in the paper, and contacted our family lawyer. I hadn’t seen Grandpa since I was three, and Derek and Teddy had never met him, but I think we were all comforted by his taking charge and making a plan.
By bedtime the three of us were totally wiped out.
“Where’s Grandpa?” asked Derek.
“He went to the police station with the social worker. There were some papers and things he had to sign.”
“I don’t want to go to New Hampshire. Why can’t Grandpa move here?”
“He has a farm, Derek, and he needs to be there to take care of it. Who knows, maybe we’ll like it there. Now up to bed with you.”
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like it on the farm, out in the middle of nowhere and hundreds of miles away from my friends, but I didn’t say that aloud.
Once more in the middle of the night, Teddy crawled into my bed, not even asking this time. He was hugging his bear with his right hand while his left thumb was in his mouth. He made little sucking sounds as he went to sleep. I cuddled him, kissed him, and finally went to sleep.