what if?

My brain moves very fast. I can make pictures out of a scenario in seconds... probably why I am so frightened for Weston all of the time. Because I can see what's going to happen to him seconds after he makes his decision. for example, when he runs out into a parking lot because he is once again not listening, my brains flashes pictures in front of my eyes. From him being hit by a car, to the hospital, to after, to how it affects my marriage... and so on and so forth. (I have a wicked imagination that works at lightning speed.)

I've been sick this weekend. I have a pretty nasty cold. And sometimes I sort of Zone Out. I do my best Zoning Out in the shower, and last night's shower was a huge Zone Out - so much so that I had to feel my hair to make sure I'd washed it when i was done. Here's what the voyage through my brain was like:

First I was thinking about Mom writing a letter to her stem cell donor. It's been a year now, and she can make contact by letter if she wants. And then I wondered if I could make contact, and if I did what would I say? Things like, Thank you, just don't seem like enough. Maybe a story about Weston and her being a grandma, or maybe about me calling her almost every day for the last 13+ years. And then my brain went to the phone calls with Mom and how they aren't the same. These calls are better than when she was sick, but they aren't like the "Mom calls" PreCancer. Those calls were great and could go on for over an hour. Now... Mom's done talking to you anywhere from 5-15 minutes. I feel blessed to get 15 minutes now, but then I felt guilty, and that maybe I should be glad that I have a Mom to talk to at all. and then I thought:

what if Mom hadn't beat cancer?

What would my life be like if Mom weren't here? I pictured the numbness, and the constant crying. Of trying to explain Heaven to my little boy who cried for his Mimi. Of my growing silence to everyone including Scott. And how that put stress on our relationship. (I could see it like a movie.)

I could see Nathan and his girlfriend fighting, and their girls wearing ratty clothes because Mom wasn't constantly buying her grandbabies new jammies. I saw trouble there.


What about Shannon? I know that she and Mom don't the need to talk daily like I do, but I know Mom is constantly in Shannon's head.  I saw Shannon getting engaged, her bridal shower, and walking down the aisle... and Mom wasn't there. and Shannon trying to be strong. And me trying to fill the spot where Mom was supposed to be, and failing - because I'm not Mom.

I saw Dad wandering around our old house in Clinton, lost. Then I saw him moving in with us. Not into our tiny apartment, but into a house where he'd have his own space and where I could still keep an eye on him when he was home. I saw myself cooking for him, and him reading books, but always looking so sad, like something was missing from his soul. and I of course knew what was missing, but I couldn't fix it.

I saw Linda traveling with Uncle Dave. I saw her less and less. Like we reminded her of her lost family. And it made me sad.

Now... this entire event took place in brain in under 5 minutes total. But I saw all of this. Obviously I am not going to tell this young 24-ish year old man what he saved my family from. He deserves happiness and praise for his role in saving Mom's life. If I write him a letter, it will be to thank him for the things I used to take for granted: The daily phone calls, the little trinkets and surprises she finds for us, the hugs, how happy she looks when she sees Weston, how happy he is just to see her; there are so many things to be grateful for - enough to push the darkest thoughts away. If I ever get a chance to tell this young man thank you, I'm also going to ask him why? I'm curious to know what touched his life in such a way for him to pay it forward and save my Mom's life. It must have been something miraculous.