The last night when the doctor told my father and I that she would die in an hour maybe five hours (they were keeping her alive with drugs-she had a d.N.R.- her sickly body was so frail that cpr would not be possible anyway). I would walk out to the car and listen to a rush of blood to the head.
Then when I felt strong enough I would go back to her room. I was in my late twenties when I had a severe problem with substance abuse. This took it's toll on my mother. Mentally, physically, financially and monetarily.' Running in cirles.'
'coming back as we were.' My repeated attempts to drink like a normal person(not to mention drugs) 'nobody said it was easy.' Trying to get back the healthy adult relationship we had.