Life On the Refrigerator Door, Page 3

  I’ll be home at five. I made coffee. Decaffeinated!

  I do think we should tell Dad what’s going on. And Gina.

  C

  Thanks for the book, darling.

  I’ve gone to lie down.

  Mom.

  —Could you take the garbage out?

  I’ll call at lunchtime. Two more weeks of school! Then it’s SUMMER!!!!

  C. (I need some flip-flops!)

  How did it go at the doctor’s today, Mom? I wish you’d let me come with you. I called but you weren’t home. I’m hoping that you went for a long drive and that they just have it all wrong.

  I’m in the yard with Peter. Sitting in the sun. Feeling strange.

  Claire

  I came in and I read your note and I went to the back door and I looked at you in the yard and I couldn’t tell you, Claire. How can I tell you that life isn’t as good as it should be? I’ll fight this thing. I’ll fight it. But I can’t get up the strength to tell you face-to-face what the doctor said. I’m sorry.

  I’m lying down.

  Mom.

  You looked so small in your room last night, Mom. Oh, God, I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t understand how everything has happened so quickly. I thought that everything would be fine. I thought that this only happened to other people. I have a friend at school whose grandmother survived. She ate lots of broccoli and did lots of exercise. Like you do. You’ll be fine. AND YOU’RE MUCH YOUNGER THAN MY FRIEND’S GRANDMOTHER!!!!!!

  I believe in you, Mom. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you at noon.

  Claire

  When you get in, Claire, call your Dad’s cell. He’s going to drive you to meet me at the doctor’s. We have to talk about this together, all of us.

  I’m not sure that you believing in me is going to fix this, Claire-Bear, and perhaps neither is broccoli or exercise. I’m sorry, darling. Let’s all listen to the doctor together and work something out.

  Love,

  Mom.

  We can’t give up hope, Mom. Lots of people recover from this. And think of all the things you still have left to do! All those babies to deliver. Me to look after.

  The surgery and the chemo will help. You’ll get better, I know it.

  Broccoli and exercise this evening. We’ll walk along the river together. We can look at those pink flowers that you like—what are they called? We can stand at the edge of the water and watch the sun tumbling down. I’ll hold your hand through this, Mom. See you at 4?

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  All right, Claire. I just have to get something from Nicole. And, yes, I will tell her that we need some help.

  A walk will be lovely. Exercise and broccoli. As you say, darling.

  Mom.

  Could you get some bread and milk, please Claire.

  Mom.

  Emma called.

  Mom.

  I have to babysit tonight but I’ll be back as soon as I’m done. LAST DAY OF SCHOOL TOMORROW!!!! YAY!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  C

  Claire,

  I’ve gone to lie down.

  James from school called.

  Love,

  Mom.

  Michael called, sweetheart. He can’t make it tonight. He said to call him.

  Hope everything’s OK?

  Mom.

  Why is this happening to you, Mommy? Why is it happening so fast? Everything was fine at Christmas.

  I’m in the back bedroom on the internet trying to understand what the surgery is going to be like. Everything’s fine with Michael. He found me talking about it all a bit depressing, I guess. I shouldn’t have tried to talk to him. He didn’t even know anything anyway!

  It doesn’t seem real???? Does it???

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  Hi darling,

  I can only deal with the facts, Claire. I thought I could go to work and deal with the awful radiation therapy. But it was really tough, and I wish I’d talked to you about how terrible it made me feel. I’m not used to being on this side of the doctor’s desk, remember? Doctors are the worst patients.

  Then it was taken out of my hands. Because I’m not in control, Claire. I can’t control this, and that’s what’s really frightening.

  We should take notes next time we go to the doctor’s. You can be my note taker.

  I have to go and rest. I’ll see you later.

  I’m ready for tomorrow.

  Love,

  Mom.

  I’ve made you some chicken soup, Mom. How are you feeling?

  When you get up, Mom, I’m just in the yard. I’m reading another book of poetry written by other people who’ve been where you are. One writer says that losing a breast makes you feel less of a woman. It’s hard for me to understand because I find it hard to think of you like that, Mom, as the sort of woman who feels like a woman and not like a mom. Does that make any sense? Can you talk to me about these things? I’m trying to be more grown-up but it’s REALLY hard.

  I won’t be outside for long and I’ll come and check on you so if you don’t feel like coming to get me, then I promise I’ll be in your room with you soon.

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  Morning Mom!

  I’ve just gone with Dad to get you a hat (just in case). He said he’d seen a beautiful one but he wanted me to check it out with him.

  You’re doing well, Mom. I’m proud of you. You’ll be back at work before you know it—back to your usual self in no time.

  Dad thought he might stay around this evening. I hope that’s no problem???

  Hugs and love,

  Claire

  —I have my key.

  I’m sorry I got so angry with you, Claire. I’m doing the best I can. First I have to deal with the aftereffects of the surgery, then I’ll think about the chemo. After that, I can focus on getting better.

  Mom.

  I’m with Michael—he’s driving me to take back the hat. I’m sorry, Mom. Dad and I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that you still have your hair and that you might not lose it. I was trying to cheer you up.

  You’ll feel better soon. There’s still some soup in the fridge.

  Claire

  Emma and James and I are outside in the yard. They came over to see if they could do anything to help around the house for us. Sweet!!!!

  Come and look for us. It might cheer you up to sit in the sun????

  Claire

  I’m sorry that Emma and James were here, Mom. I thought it would be nice to have some company but I’ll ask next time I want to have friends over, OK?

  You look beautiful to me.

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  I’m sorry, Claire. I didn’t expect to feel so dreadful. I feel a little stronger now but this kind of knocked me for six. At least I’ll only lose my right breast once (that was supposed to be a joke, but it’s not really very funny). It’s nice of you to tell me that I look beautiful. I certainly don’t feel beautiful. I feel like I’m underwater and I can’t work out how to swim to the surface. I’m a bit lost, that’s all. I don’t want you to worry about me.

  The chemo starts soon. Maybe you could come with me?

  As for my hair, I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

  Mommy.

  When I look at you

  I see the woman I want to be

  Strong and brave

  Beautiful and free

  Claire

  P. S. I love you

  Things have happened so fast, Claire-Bear. I feel like I’ve lost control of everything and when I look at myself I don’t recognize who I am anymore. Is this what life is?

  I’m sorry, I don’t mean to burden you. You’re only fifteen. I’ll make breakfast for you when I get back. I’ll be ten minutes.

  Love,

  Mom.

  Claire,

  Sorry, I forgot your allowance. It’s on the counter. There’s an extra 10 dollars with it, honey.

 
; Love,

  Mom.

  James called. He said to call him.

  xx

  Mom.

  Mom,

  Am eating breakfast, but can’t find you. I’ll be in the yard.

  I wrote this list for Dad and wrote a copy for you. BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT!

  Birthday List:

  Books—I like Sylvia Plath

  Makeup

  Jewelry

  iPod

  Laptop instead of our ANCIENT desktop.

  Clothes, or gift voucher for Isis …

  Nearly sixteen!!!!

  Mom!

  Maybe Emma and James could come this weekend and perhaps I could ask some of my other friends too. Cheryl and Juliette and Alison and Ellie, maybe Jim, Sandy, and Jack? And maybe Michael too?????!!!!!!! We could hang out here and have a bar-be-que (HOW DO YOU SPELL THAT??? BAR B Q? BBQ?????)

  What about Saturday? Are you up for it? Or we could all go to Dad’s and you could come and then you wouldn’t have to cook?

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CLAIRE

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

  Happy birthday my beautiful, brave daughter. I can hardly believe that it was sixteen years ago that you were a tiny, perfect baby. I remember hearing your first cry. You were a miracle.

  Peter and I are in the yard. We’ll be having breakfast out here (he’ll only be having carrots and seeds probably—I’m having salmon on a bagel … I have an extra one for you …) What a beautiful summer we’re having.

  Love you, birthday girl.

  Mom.

  Thanks for the breakfast and everything this morning, Mom. I love ALL MY PRESENTS! Best of all was seeing you outside.

  That dress looked lovely on you.

  Claire

  Once chemo starts tomorrow, I won’t be going in the sun. Did you know that, darling? The sun reacts badly with the chemicals, apparently, so I’ve been sitting in the yard enjoying the sun on my skin for a little bit of this morning.

  I can’t believe how many pills I have to take. And, worse, I’m not sure if chemotherapy is a good thing. Just the word makes it sound frightening.

  Mom.

  I’m sorry about this Saturday, Claire. I know you were looking forward to having your friends here. I feel terrible about it all.

  Love,

  Mom.

  Don’t apologize, Mommy. I should be the one saying sorry. I wish I hadn’t given you such a hard time over Michael in the spring. Is it my fault? Is all this my fault?

  Claire

  It’s no one’s fault, Claire. It’s just how life is sometimes. Maybe it’s my fault for trying to protect you when your father and I divorced. I didn’t want you to ever see that the world can be a bad place, that life is difficult, that sometimes we can’t control our destinies.

  This is not your fault, Claire. This is nobody’s fault. Sometimes there just isn’t anyone to blame.

  We haven’t talked about Michael very much. I know you’re still seeing him. How is that going? I won’t be angry.

  Love,

  Mom.

  —Emma called.

  —We’re out of milk—money on the counter.

  (With your allowance and your key—it was under the kitchen table.)

  Hey Mom,

  I’m worried that something’s wrong with me. My heart feels like it’s beating too fast. I feel like all the colors in the room have got more intense. I mean, blue is more blue somehow and red is more red, and yellow suddenly looks like the sun is shining. I don’t think I’m making much sense, sorry! I just have a funny sensation. It’s as if I’ve eaten too much food and my stomach is unpleasantly full. Writing it down is making me feel worse, actually. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I need to get out of the house?????

  Do you want to go on vacation somewhere when the chemo’s finished? Not somewhere expensive, but maybe we could take the car (we could leave Peter with Dad) and we could just drive somewhere. Road trip girls …

  Talking of Peter, his ear seems to be squashed up—has he hurt himself do you think?

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  Claire,

  What you were describing, that feeling, it sounds a bit like anxiety. We could take you to the doctor’s if you want. But, please don’t worry darling, everything’s going to be OK.

  I can beat this thing.

  And we’ll talk about a vacation later. I can’t think about that now. It would be like being at the end of a road when I haven’t driven along it yet.

  Peter’s ear looks fine to me.

  Love,

  Mom.

  Dear Claire,

  My heart is all fluttery, like I’ve got a hummingbird trapped inside. I’ve gone to lie down.

  Mom.

  I’ve just remembered, your allowance was on the counter with the money for bread and milk the other day.

  Are you still feeling anxious?

  Mom.

  James called. He said he’d try again later.

  Love,

  Mom.

  Am with Emma. Back by 9:30.

  xxx

  Claire

  Poor Claire,

  It’s not been much of a summer vacation, has it? I’ll make it up to you. One day.

  Mom.

  I don’t need a summer vacation. I just want you to get better.

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  Michael called. He can’t make it tonight.

  Love,

  Mom.

  It’s so hot today, I’ve gone to lie down.

  Love,

  Mom.

  Michael called. Call him when you get in. All OK?

  Love,

  Mom.

  Kept a smile on my face all day to think of you dancing in the kitchen this morning, Claire. The edges of the grass are turning brown and poor Peter is gasping in the heat, but you’re cool and fresh and dancing.

  Love,

  Mom.

  September

  Beautiful and free

  Hey Mom,

  You looked so brave in the hospital. I wondered what it felt like to be you, what it felt like to have that stuff going into your body. I know it felt strange for me. I mean, you’re the one who’s the grown-up yet I was trying to look after you.

  I didn’t tell you, but the nurse came to talk to me. She gave me a couple of books. We could read them together???

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  Hi Claire,

  Hope your first day in Grade 11 was great and that you and Emma have lots of classes together again this year. Leftover pasta and salad in the fridge, and I bought you a slice of cappuccino cake from the bakery as a special treat.

  I had to lie down for a while.

  Mom.

  Hi Mom,

  Gina and Nicole are coming over tonight to bring us dinner and they’ll do it every time we need it while the chemotherapy goes on so that you can rest. Gina asked me about it a couple of weeks ago and I told her we were managing. But, when she asked again, I thought it might be nice to have company.

  Is that OK?

  C

  Fine.

  Mom.

  Is there anything you want, Mom? Write it down.

  C

  To feel better.

  Mom.

  I’ve been writing some poetry and Miss Manda liked it. I’ll show you some, if you like. And I feel less worried than I have done. I’ve gone out with Emma just for a short while. I’ll be back by 6 at the latest, promise!

  Gina will be here before me. We’re having lasagna tonight. YAY!

  Claire

  How’s your arm feeling today, Mom? Should we call the hospital and ask them about it?

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  Hi Claire,

  I think I’m going to need a hat. Did you take that pretty blue one back in the end?

  I’m lying down.

  Mom.

&n
bsp; When the road bends

  We’ll be on it together,

  Taking the curve

  Clinging

  To each other, like mother

  To daughter,

  To mother.

  Miss Manda said the school magazine will publish this one. Maybe I’d like to be a writer when I grow up.

  Claire

  I loved the poem, sweetheart.

  I’m not feeling up to the drive today. I was fine this morning, but I’m worn down now.

  Next batch tomorrow. I’m not sure I can bear it. I feel sick just thinking about it.

  Mom.

  —James called.

  I’ll come with you.

  Love you,

  Claire

  I’m glad it’s not so hot, honey. I know you love the summer but it’s nice when the weather starts to turn … Soon the leaves will be in full color.

  Your allowance is on the counter.

  Mom.

  It’s early in the morning, Claire, and I’ve been sitting here thinking for a long time. I’ve been thinking about you and me, and your father. It seems that since we separated, you’ve had to grow up a whole lot more than I ever gave you credit for. Think of all the shopping you’ve done, and cooking, and now you’re looking after me. I know Gina is helping, but, really, you’ve been so supportive to me and I wonder if I’ve done enough for you in the past.

  Have I been a good mother? It’s the sort of question every mother wants to ask but often they don’t get the chance. Or they don’t dare.

  I love you,

  Mom.

  Mom

  I don’t know what to say. You’re my mother and all I want is for you to get better. Perhaps I’m not as grown-up as you think.

  I’m just taking a walk. Michael called and when I told him I was busy today he was disappointed so we’re going out for a bit. I’ll be back in time.

  Love and hugs,

  Claire

  MOM!

  You should have waited for me. I was here in time! Now you’re at the hospital all alone and I’m stuck here climbing the walls.

  I wish you’d stop and think sometimes. It doesn’t make it easier for me when you do stuff like this and I can’t even get mad at you because you’re sick.

  I’m sitting with Peter in the yard.

  Claire

  Gina told me that she drove you home yesterday. She’s going to stay the night here tonight and I’m going to Dad’s. I think it’s a good idea.