Life and the Mall

My last Grandmother is dying. And I cannot get to her. Financially, logistically and practically, I just cannot get the 1,000 miles to her. My family understands and I try to not feel awful about someone dying so far away. I am not as close to my Grandmother as I used to be, that's what miles, distance, time and life does to us, to me. She is 91 years old and has lived a good life. She is surrounded by family and friends and love.

And I am here.

My bosses gave me time off, assuming, like I did, that I would be making the trip. I exhausted every option and myself yesterday, until I finally realized that it was not going to be possible. So, today. Today, I took off to be with my son. Today is his last day of school vacation.

To be with just him, to enjoy his company and my child, my life. I ask what he wants to do today. Originally, we were thinking of a nature walk, but he thinks the weather is not nice enough. One of my suggestions was for us to go out and buy his sister a birthday present.

And he wants to go to the mall. I hate the mall. I especially hate going when I am depressed. But I go, because my son and I are spending quality time together and that is what he wants to do.

We wander the mall and we talk. I keep looking at my phone--my aunt is supposed to call so that I can talk to my Grandmother sometime today to say good-bye.

My son wants to go to Rainforest Cafe. I used to have Wednesdays off to spend with my son (before he went to kindergarten) and we used to go there often when he was little. So we go. And its loud and annoying as ever. And he is entranced and nostalgic and I am too. I remember my little boy/toddler and I see how he has grown. I see him looking at everything through his new teen eyes. And I marvel at life. At my life and my time on this earth and the people who have touched me and who I have touched. And I appreciate this time with my son.

Later, we are at home and he plays his video game while in the other room I say good-bye to my Grandmother. I tell her I am proud of her. She tells me she is proud of me. And I realize life is a cycle and I am a part of it.

And it doesn't matter the distance, because the thoughts and feelings cross and are a part of the world around me and around her.