watching

We go with her to get her radiation treatments. The waiting room is full of bald people - quiet people - people waiting for all of the bad stuff to be burned out of them - just like in hell. We are the only kids there. They come to get Mama and we watch her on closed circuit TV. We watch right up until the moment they slide her into the tube, and then the nurse turns it off, and gives us watermelon Jolly ranchers.

When we get home mama lays on the black and white stripey couch. Little brother and I sit on the floor - close by her, no TV, no talking, no playing - just sitting. She closes her eyes and we watch over her. We are small but - still we know what we are watching for.

Is this when the dying came? We do not know. The only word we ever hear is "soon."

So we sit. Six and three, watching our mama die. Sometimes she holds my hand, and I sit pretzel legged just rubbing her arm until her fingers go loose inside my hand. And then I let go slowly - because I have to check.

Is it sleeping or dying?

If it is dying I will not do anything different - because I know the doctors will come and get her and I will never get to be like this again. If it is dying, we will just stay on the couch. But still, I need to know.

Today it was sleeping. Little brother is playing hotwheels on the floor. I sit sideways and put my arms on the couch. I rest my chin on my arms, my face close to hers. I can tell - even though she never lets me see, that under her scarf she has no more hair. She does not even have eyelashes. I know I am watching her disappear, but I think that if I love her enough she will stay - she will have to stay.

Because the cancer is taking away everything. First it took the dancing away, then the hair. It took the cuddles, and even the eyelashes. And now it has even taken the smiles. No more smiles - not for her - not for us. Little brother and I are like a technicolor version of Wednesday and Pugsley Adams - all silence and serious.

And mama - she does not talk too much - no smiles - no words. She just looks in our eyes, like she is trying to take it all in - or maybe she wants us to.