Death Sucks

I have no title for this entry yet.  I’m hoping one will occur to me as I write this.  Well, today’s Friday.  On Sunday, I’d been asked to cover the morning shift in Long Branch while Drew was at some kind of manager rally thing in Secaucus.  It was supposed to be my day off, but hey, extra hours, and frankly, yeah, I’ll do just about anything for Drew.  (Something that our DM knows and I think semi-exploits, but anyway.)  Drew had to get up at 6:30 in the morning because he was going down to Eatonton to pick up a couple of people who were carpooling with him, (only one of which actually showed up,) and then he was driving them all up to the place which is a good forty-five minutes, an hour from here.

I got up to see him off, mostly because he woke me up accidentally, and I fell back to sleep at seven for another two and a half hours before waking up, getting ready and heading to Long Branch.  Well, I turned on my phone as I was leaving the apt, and saw I had a couple texts (Drew,) and four voicemails.  Four??  I figured Drew, but no, it was my mom, saying that I had to call her before Drew left for work, it was urgent.  Same basic message for all four.  I thought there was some kind of emergency with my family, so I immediately called the house phone, but my uncle answered and said nothing was wrong.  So I called up my mom at work and asked what was going on.  Well, she asked me where Drew’s parents grew up.  I said Freehold, or at least that was where they were when Drew was growing up.  Then she asked what Drew’s father’s name was.  I told her, and she said, "Well, there’s an obituary in the paper for him."  And told me that if I could get ahold of Drew, the viewing was that day (Tuesday,) from noon to one.  I explained about the meeting and that I was covering Long Branch in his stead, but said that I’d tell him when I saw him.

So, I went to work at Long Branch, didn’t put the food order in, but I put it away to the best of my ability.  (Some stuff, I just had no idea where it went.)  And I also folded about 600 or so boxes and the opening driver and I arranged them in the back.  I kind of wondered how this would affect Drew, and a part of me wondered if it even would affect him.  See, long story short, he’s adopted.  The father who just recently died isn’t his biological dad.  And Drew has been estranged from his parents for about five and a half years, ever since some conflict that arose when his older daughter was born.  Plus, he and his parents clashed throughout his life because of different situations and I guess there have been a few other times when he’s gone whatever length of time without speaking to them.  Just since I’ve known him, he’s often insisted he didn’t care about them, he was out of their lives and they were out of his, etc., etc.

And to be honest, I feel horrible for how I presented the information to him, because I was dumb enough to take those words and those claims of his at face value, instead of doing what I normally do and thinking there’s gotta be more to it, those can’t be his true feelings.  Nope, instead I believed him when he said he didn’t care.  God . . .

I’ve been beating myself up over this since his reaction Tuesday.  See, he got there at about quarter to four and looked at a couple things around the store, chatted a bit with the driver and someone else outside, but finally went in the back where the office is.  Which is where I followed him.  We were standing at the counter and I told him I hadn’t put in the food order, but had put most of it away.  Then I said that there was something I had to tell him.  "I don’t know if you’ll care about this, but my mom called me this morning.  When I talked to her, she asked me where your parents lived and what your father’s name was.  I told her in Freehold, and his first name was Morris.  She told me that there’s an obituary in the paper for a Morris S——-g.  He died on the thirteenth."

When my Nana died, I was halfway down the stairs and my mom broke the news to me.  It took me about five to ten minutes before I’d gone back up in my room, hugged my Ringo Applause doll, and started sobbing.  There was no such time delay here.  Literally, I’m not sure you could’ve counted to five between when I said the word ‘thirteenth’ and when Drew broke down.  As soon as he did, God . . . I felt horrible.  The words, "I don’t know if you’ll care," kep repeating themselves in my head, and even now, I’m beating myself up for it, to a degree.  I mean, how could I say that to him?  How could I have phrased it that way?  It wasn’t said sarcastcially or anything, just factually, because to be honest, I didn’t know if he would care, but even so, that’s no excuse.

Amazingly, he didn’t try to push me away when he broke down.  He let me stay next to him, one arm around his back, the other on his arm/shoulder.  I’d say about twenty seconds went by after I finished my sentence and he broke down, before he fumbled for his phone, pulled it out, and dialled his parents’ number.  A man answered, who put him on with his dad’s brother, who then got Drew’s mom.  He said it was Andrew and that he’d heard about what happened because of the obituary in the paper.  He asked where his dad was buried and she said a cemetery in New Egypt.  Then she said there were a lot of people at the house, but he was welcome to come if he wanted.  I think it was her saying that that brought a new wave of break-down upon Drew.  When he’d disconnected the call, I said, "You should go.  I’ll stay here."

He did end up going, after calling the other manager of that store and asking if he could come in because Drew had to leave, he’d just found out his father died.  The other guy couldn’t come in, though, so I was stuck doubling.  (Argh.)  I texted Drew a few hours later since I wanted to ask him something about the store, but then I realized he was off Monday, he wouldn’t know the answer, anyway.  We exchanged a couple lines and I asked if he was still at his mom’s, and he said yes.  So I said I’d stop texting him for now, then, because I was sure there were people there he wanted to be around.  Then I said I loved him.

I talked to my mom, too, probably not too long after that.  She was worried Drew wouldn’t come home that night.  Or maybe not worried, but half-expecting him to stay with his mom?  Anyway, she wasn’t sure Drew would tell me what was going on and didn’t wanna see me left in the dark.  I knew he’d let me know about something major like that, though.  And I was right.  I’m not sure what time it was, but he text’d me saying he was home from his mom’s house.  I asked how it went and he said not well, but when I asked what happened, he didn’t wanna talk about it.  I asked if he’d still be up when I got home, or if he’d be asleep, and he said he didn’t know, his head was still spinning.

He was awake when I got home and we exchanged the normal ‘hi’s’ and whatnot when one of us walksin.  Then I went over to the couch and said, "So, should I ask the stupid question?"  He asked, "What stupid question?"  I answered, "How you holding up?" (or some equivalent.)  He gave me a kind of sidelong glare and said, "Stupid question."  I responded, "Like I said."

I tried to ask him about what happened when he saw his mom, but he didn’t seem receptive to questions at all, so after a couple vague attempts, ("So, how’d it go over there?") I gave up.  I just hoped he would talk to me soon, but I wasn’t gonna push that hard for it.  Not so quickly.  I mean, who knows how many family members/family friends he saw that day that he has pent up/unresolved issues with?  Couple that with why he was there in the first place, and yeah . . .  That’d be hard on anyone’s emotional well-being.  Add in that Drew’s not exactly the picture of emotional health and well-being, I was definitely gonna let him take things at his own pace.

The following night, he worked, I was off.  I waited up for him and made him coffee when he got back.  When I set it on the table, he volunteered some information about his dad and what happened when he went over there.  I guess it was leukemia that killed him, and it took him quick.  And he mentioned never being able to reconcile with his father now.  I asked what about his mom?  You know, a chance for reconciliation with her.  He said he didn’t know.  That he’d talked to her that morning and told her he was off the next day, so if she needed him, she could call.  I don’t know if she did; I didn’t ask, and Drew ended up texting me yesterday around three to say he was closing in Ocean to make up for the hours he lost on Tuesday.

So I got home first, put water on for coffee for him, text’d him to ask if he’d be home soon, and that water was on, and read more of the Vampire Diaries book that the opening driver picked up for me on Tuesday.  (That was something I was gonna do that day, but what with having to double in Long Branch . . .  But there was a Borders nearby, so he went and grabbed it for me and I paid him back.)

So, Drew came back, had his coffee and matzo cracker things with cream cheese (blech!) and watched an episode of Greatest American Hero.  I admit, not a bad show.  It’s cute.  I was half-watching it while reading more of my book, then decided what the heck, I might as well lay down.  So I gave Drew a hug, said I was going to bed, and I’d see him in there when he came in.  About ten minutes later, he comes in, I turn out the light, and he lays down.  I hugged him and he kinda squirmed which made me ask if his back was itchy.  So I told him to lay on his tummy and I’d back scratch him.  I did, and then went to my normal after-back-scratch-back-massage.  As I did that, I described some of what he’d been doing the previous night that kept me up until six in the morning.  At first, he was just restless, laying one way, turning on his back, going back to his side, sitting up and almost falling over several times because he starts to really fall asleep while still sitting up, etc.  I would sit up with him because it became apparent pretty quickly that his back itched.  So I would scratch it for him, get him to lay down on his tummy, and he’d seem to rest.  Then the tossing and turning and sitting up would start over.  At one point, I was sitting behind him with my legs on either side of him, holding him with one arm so he wouldn’t start slumping forward if he fell truly asleep, and scratching his back with the other hand.  He actually relaxed and was leaning against me, asleep, for a few minutes.  He finally seemed to truly settle down and be able to slep when he was laying on his right side and I was behind him, my arm alongside his and my hand resting near his on his hip.

Yeah, I was dead to the world the next day and fell asleep in the office for a good deal of time.  Luckily, there were about five orders between opening and five pm or so.

Anyway, I was finishing up the back massage when I asked if it felt good and he said he didn’t feel anything.  So I asked what if I did this? and here’s where it goes to TMI territory.

Afterwards, we were stretched out in that same him-on-his-side-me-behind-him position, but I was hugging him.  We stayed that way for awhile, but then, in his sleep, he took my hand from around him and moved it.

I hope he does keep in contact with his mom now.  Or at the very least, that they part ways peacefully, so that when she passes, Drew won’t have the regrets and guilt that he does concerning his father.

Oh, that was something I forgot to mention.  When he told me about going over there, I guess she asked how he and his ex are doing.  Of course, she didn’t know their mariage failed.  So, he said they were seperated and he’s in the process of getting a divorce.  And he also told me that she asked if he was seeing anyone else, and he said yes.  I do find it interesting, though.  His mom apparently wasn’t that upset about him and his ex not being together.  Apparently, she never liked her.

Lol, well, at least it shows his mom does have some taste.  When and if she and I ever meet, though, I wonder what she’ll make of me?