Through sorrow I hear laughter

 
 

I took a deep breath as Dr. Fox announced the names alphabetically. This is it, what is supposed to be the happiest moment of my life. "Mary Cathlin Fletcher". I stood up, shaking, squeezed my sweet friend Winn's hand and walked up to the front of the auditorium. I glanced down to the second row and saw my daddy's gleaming face and my brothers sweet smile. But it was the empty seat beside daddy that screamed at me louder than the clapping, the beaming smile or Dr. Fox's hug.

Just a few weeks before, I was on cloud nine as mom and I went shopping for graduation. That may seem like an ordinary mom and daughter event for many- but for me it was extraordinary. It had been years since mom and I had spent any time together. Having been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis a couple years back it was difficult for mom to even make the trek from her bedroom to the kitchen, which was, maybe 20 yards away. Her legs did not have the strength. She also had been struggling with her alcoholism and had just returned from her second treatment that year. Upon her return, I truly believed things were different. Her M.S. was in remission which brought such relief. Her eyes had a shine in them that I had never seen. She and dad flirted and laughed and filled the house with love, which again, was new to me. Her promises were and big and enthusiastic. She apologized for her wrong doings. If she did not ACTUALLY promise she was gong to make up for all those lost years by being a great mother now, that is what the ears of a 17 year old heard and hoped for so desperately. So with her MS temporarily gone, she was quick to get me to Copelands in Charlotte to find the perfect apparel for my graduation weekend. As I look back on it, I think it was a God Given Gift to me that he gave her to me like that for a moment in time.

It was not but a couple of days after my flight up to cloud nine that dad had a trip to Texas for business. I opened the door and screamed my typical "Hey Mom, I am home!!". I walked into the den I and stopped dead in my tracks as my previous hopes were crushed. There she sat in her regular spot, with her green condensed glass close beside her and the dark circles under her eyes. Hardly responsive, she said hello. I turned around and left my drunk mother to fend for herself. In typical style I fixed dinner for Chris, my 11 year old brother, and went upstairs to my room, where I stayed all night. Throughout the night I would hear her moans and groans and her screechings. "CAAAAAATTTHHHYY", she would yell. It would be like the fingernails on a chalkboard as it made my body tight and nauseous. I just went down once, to make sure she was not in trouble, only to find her cursing at me. So, I remained locked in my room, trying to drown out her screams with music, praying that she would just pass out. When she was in this condition I did not sleep at night. I stayed awake fearful that she would do something idiotic. Deep down I always knew what the final result would be, and in the late hours of the night, I would listen for it.

The following morning, I slipped out without being heard with my Chris in tow, and went on to school. I successfully did nothing at school, since the "senior slide' had been well established. School was my outlet. I may have been a zombie in the classroom, but my friends were my family. With my two older brothers in college, they were who I had to lean on. And I do not think they have any idea just how much I leaned. Mom's drunkenness, at least the severity of it, was my secret. It would somehow flaw me if I were to admit what was really happening at home.

I came straight home from school that afternoon. In the previous springs I had played soccer, but I knew this year it would be too hard on me and the family to play, with moms legs as weak as they were. I needed to pick Chris up from school and prepare much of the dinners. She wasn't in her typical spot when I got home. I went into the bedroom and heard her moaning from the bathroom. There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor, with blood oozing out of her forehead. She had fallen and hit her head. After many failed attempts for her to get to the doctor(There was no way I could accomplish that on my own), I did succeed in getting her into the bed and clean her up. Finally, I caved and called daddy. I do not like to give into a fight, but this is one I could not do on my own. I breathed a little deeper knowing that he was on a flight back home, and he was, quite obviously , distraught.

The house was silent for days. Dad was depressed by mom's relapse. Mom was in bed, unwilling to come out and unwilling to get sober. Chris and I tiptoed trying our best to stay out of the way. We all had been kicked in the gut, wishing we could go back to the land of almost perfect, but we were well aware that those dreams were gone. If mom had made so many heartfelt promises just days before and could not keep them, our hopes for normal in the future had just vanished.

May 1st, 1987. Mom still had not come out of her room, but according to dad she had began to sober up a bit. It was a Friday and the weekend plans were buzzing. The majority of my friends were involved in the state track meet at our rival school that afternoon. May Day Play Day was the school festival that I adored attending on Saturday, and from there we were heading to the lake for the rest of the weekend. It was, by far, my favorite time of year. And it came at the perfect time considering how tired I was of tiptoeing.

It was noon when I walked home from school due to a half day schedule. It was one of those days that was so spectacular that every color had a brilliant shine. The sky was crystal clear, the air perfect. I can still remember smelling the fresh cut grass of the campus drive. I walked in the house euphoric over the weather and my weekend plans. Right there to meet me at the door was my housekeeper with a look of concern on her face. She was worried that "Ms. Fletcher" had not come out of her room all day. I tried to soothe her by telling her she had not come out all week and there was nothing to worry about. But the concern ate at me. I changed into a bathing suit, grabbed the jambox and babyoil, and went out on my back porch to lie out in the sun. This time, rather than trying to tune her out, I blared the music as loud as I could, hoping to wake her. I was unusually restless. I went inside and knocked on her door. I tried to open it but it was locked. There was another door that led to the outside porch, so I went out there and turned the handle. It was not locked, but in another God Given Moment, I opened the door to a crack and then stopped and pulled it shut. It was at that moment that I knew that I needed to call dad and I should not be the one to enter that room.

From then until dad returned home, there was a lot of pacing and near hyperventilating. My heart felt as if it was going to burst out of my chest and my ears were buzzing so hard internally that I would just hold my hands over them to ease the noise. Every part of me wanted to believe that this was just another nightmare. But in fact, my nightmares had become my reality.

Dad rushed in 45 minutes later with Chris in tow and instructed us to sit back while he went into the room. With his shoulders slumped and his head dropped low, daddy came out. Mom had taken her own life, with a gun.

One moment we are alone in our grief and the very next second, my house is full of strangers- Police, Medics, friends of dads. The police cornered me and aggressively began asking questions, along the lines of, "Could your dad have killed your mother?"... I am a teenage girl who just minutes ago lost her mother and worships her father. Really, you need to do this now? By the grace of God, a dear friend of mine walked in the door. As he told them to lay off of me, I took a deep breath, and in that moment the reality of the afternoon hit me all at once. My knees buckled and he had to set me on a step. I had to get out of there. The chaos was too much.
As we left we stopped by the closest convenient store. Parked in front were the policemen that accosted me. As I was waiting in the car, the partner came up and very sincerely apologized if his partner seemed out of line. They have questions they needed to ask, but he fully admitted that it was not the right time. "We are so sorry for you loss", were his words as he awkwardly turned away.
The rest of the afternoon, really the next couple of days are all a blur. I did not miss out on any of the festivities I was planning on, and so excited about just hours before. I went to the track meet and dinner afterward. May Day Play Day was on Saturday and then we caravanned on up to the lake. I have often questioned why I spent such little time at home during those days of grief. The house was a place of such sadness and suffering for me, and my dad and my brothers were coping with their own grief. During those days, I needed the strength of my friends. I felt as if they walked around me in a tight circle holding hands, with me in the middle. They could protect me and keep me safe.

We said our goodbyes to mom in a funeral home. Due to the Catholic Church's view on suicide, we could not have the service in the church(which was enough to tear me away from organized religion for a while). From there we went to her graveside for the burial. I was a gorgeous spring day, and as we laid her body in the ground, my one thought was, "May she finally be at peace"

I have no idea of what the thoughts were that tormented moms soul. But she lived most of her life in self loathing. She was such a gorgeous lady with the most incredible laugh. Maybe I loved her laugh so much because I did not hear it enough. But it was music to my ears. Regretfully, she did not recognize her own beauty. She could not look in the mirror any more.

As Dr. Fox squeezed me tight and told me how proud he was of me, I returned back to my seat and exhaled. Daddy was still smiling and for a moment I could see mom in the seat beside him, with her hands waving, her beautiful face smiling and she was laughing. AHHHH, that wonderful laugh. It was then that I completely relaxed. It dawned on me that she could take better care of me from where she was than she ever could living. I am fortunate to be surrounded by angels and cheerleaders and that at any big event in my life I can hear her laughter.