Rainy Days (fourth installment)

You can find the third installment here.

Suddenly, I hated them all.

I hated that doctor for the dispassionate and clinical way he had described the circumstances of my husband’s death. I wanted to physically strangle him for casually predicting the poor chance of survival for my-larger-than-life little boy. I hated my brothers and their wives for the pity and concerned looks they passed my way when they thought I wasn’t looking. I hated that they still had each other and the sickening way they leaned on and supported each other, as if it were them that had lost their life force. I even hated my mother for the whispered conferences that I was not supposed to hear about how they were going to “take care of” me made me want to smash all of their faces into a brick wall.

But most of all, I hated God.

I made it as far as the emergency room entrance before Aaron stepped abruptly in front of me, furiously grabbing my arm.

“You need to get your ass back in that room and talk to them doctors about Kai and Micah. What the hell wrong with you? You act like you’re the only one hurting. We loved that baby too!”

I shook my arm out of his grasp and attempted to walk around him, determined to put as much distance between him and everything else as fast as I could.

“Nandi, come back here!” he was all but screaming at me. I could feel the harsh energy radiating from him in waves.

“No, Aaron, leave her alone,” our mother had reached us and spoken before I had an opportunity to respond, “don’t do this here.” Steven, the oldest, who followed after her, inserted himself between Aaron and me and pulled him back.

My mother, in the meantime, wrapped me in her arms and the anger and urge to leave disappeared as quickly as it came. I allowed myself to relax into her embrace and for a few moments allowed myself to forget about a future filled with emptiness and despair.

From that moment, that tiny woman had everybody hopping with orders she tossed out like a drill sergeant. She ordered Aaron out to get coffee for everyone, to which he reluctantly complied, after throwing one last sullen glance in my direction. She then directed Steven to locate the head nurse and inquire when the hospital would be able to release Kai and Micah to the funeral home. She called everyone and I mean every one of our extended family members to inform them of the news, and then ordered a couple cousins to her house to begin cooking and to make up a bed in her guest bedroom, “’cause, baby, you don’t need to be all alone in that big house right now.” All through this whirlwind of activity, she never once released my hand and remained within physical contact of me at all times. I started to believe that her touch was the only thing keeping me anchored on this side of sanity. Just when I thought I could not stand one more second of the vice-like pressure steadily growing in my skull, she squeezed my hands and made it all better.

Funeral arrangements were finalized. Family members arrived from out of town, meals were prepared and shared. And once again, I was consumed by my impotent anger and rage. I managed to offend or reject outright almost everyone on a daily basis. Their concern, pity and grief smothered me; I couldn’t breathe. My only relief came when they left me alone.

Only Aaron refused to coddle me. Every time he showed up, he managed to engage me in some type of conflict. The quiet, sad, funereal atmosphere of my mother’s home was peppered by periods of yelling, cussing and at times, screaming matches between me and my youngest brother. Although, I had to cut Aaron some slack, because even though he was being an ass, he was at least giving me honest emotion. It was almost the only time I felt anywhere close to being alive.

He not only refused to coddle me, but expressed resentment towards anyone else who tried. He insisted that I take an active role in the planning of the wake and funeral. When I balked, he bodily forced me into the car and drove me there himself.

The family got to where they knew better than to mention Kai or Micah to me. More than a few of them had already gotten their feelings hurt. However, Aaron made it a point to call their names at least hourly during his visits; regaling whoever was present with stories about his last golf game with Kai or Micah’s last birthday party. I learned quickly to either ignore him or tune him out. The one or two times I tried leaving the room, he followed and initiated another of our frequent arguments.

One afternoon prior to the funeral, my mother’s younger brother came by to visit along with his children and various other family members. After abruptly leaving the living room, I could hear bits and pieces of the heated discussion that erupted following my departure. My uncle Henry had made the mistake of suggesting that it was God’s will for Kai to die the way he did to make up for all of the trouble he had caused when he was younger. My uncle Henry was blustering now, but before I left the room after giving him a piece of my mind, he was doing his best not to cry.

Aaron stormed in the bedroom right behind me, not bothering to knock as usual.

“Dude, I ain’t in the mood right now,” I warned, before he could say the first word.

For once, he didn’t make a smartass remark or chastise me for offending yet another family member. Instead, he walked over to the bed, sat down closely beside me, and just breathed with me. After a few moments, he lovingly took my hand and rubbed the inside of my wrist as we sat there for what seemed like hours; neither looking at nor speaking to each other. After awhile, I looked over at him and was surprised to see his face bathed in tears. When he realized I was watching, he sheepishly turned his head. He sniffed and coughed a few times and wiped ineffectively at his face. He stood up then and tugged his clothes needlessly into place.

“I sent Uncle Henry home,” he announced and with an awkward pat on my shoulder and one final look at me, left the room.