the hardest days of my life - part one

Clusters of crocus, purple and gold
Blankets of pansies, up from the cold
Lilies and iris, safe from the chill
Safe in my garden, snowdrops so still

Getting a late night phone call is never good. At best, it's only a wrong number, disruptive though that may be. At worst, it's bad news, which is usually the case. And from my experience, the only thing worse than getting a late night phone call is missing that call and having to call back. That's what happened to me on an early Valentine's Day morning.

February 13, 1996. I spent most of that evening in my dorm room alone. I was actually making a mixed tape for my mom and it was taking awhile to pick out just the right songs. I really do miss a good mixed tape LOL I'd never made one for her before and now that the show I was in had just ended, this was a good time.

One of my best friends in college, Stephanie, was going to turn 21 at midnight. A few months prior to that, I'd turned 21 and she and a group of friends took me out for my first drink, or actually my first 8 drinks LOL So, wanting to do the same for her, we made arrangements to meet up with Marcia and Steve, who were in rehearsal for Three Sisters, after they were done and go to Ham's to get her first legal drink. Good times!

We really did have a good time and didn't stay out too terribly late because it was a weeknight and there were plans for more celebrations the next night. I got back to my room around 1:00 am. Adam, my roommate at the time, was still up, which was not unusual. As soon as I walked into the room, he looked at me and very calmly said, "Bob, your dad called....twice. He wants you to call him as soon as you get in. He said it didn't matter how late it was"

Right then and there my heart sank. For my dad to call anyone later than 9:00pm was a big deal, much less having him wait up for me to call him. I knew deep down what he was going to tell me. So, I took a deep breath and picked up the phone. He answered after only one ring.

"Bob," he said in a tired and cracking voice, "I've got some bad news. It's your mom...." and that was all I heard before I, literally, started screaming. My poor roommate having to sit through all this while I just made this godawful noise. I eventually calmed myself down long enough to talk and make plans to come home the next day. But honestly, I don't remember many specifics of the call.

As soon as I hung up with Dad, I told Adam what was going on. Then the first person i called was Steve to let him know. Then I figured it was time to really ruin Stephanie's birthday, so I called her and asked if I could come over since she was still up and didn't live that far. She said yes and I left my room, walked past the dorms and down the hill and across Market Street to where she lived.

Stephanie met me at the door. I barely was able to get out that my mom had died before I just, for the first time that night, started crying actual tears. It was like a dam had burst and Stephanie was caught up in the rush. She hugged me tightly and held me for a long time. We sat on her porch and chain smoked, stopping only to drive to the Handy Pantry at 2:30 am to get more cigarettes. She stayed with me for hours that morning, even tho it was her birthday. I'm not sure I ever told Steph how much I loved her for doing that, but I do.

As the sun started to come up, I knew we both needed rest and I headed back towards campus. The whole walk back I was consumed with guilt. I had been cast in my first actual role that year in the first production of the spring semester. We started rehearsing early before Christmas and picked up again about a week before classes started in the spring. I'd left home early to get back to rehearsal and I began to beat myself up for that. Why did I have to leave? I should have stayed. Mom knew when I left that she would never see me again, but I was in denial. It's something that has haunted me for a long time.

By the time I got back to my room, I'd cried myself out for awhile. I climbed into bed and slept, or at least tried to, for a few hours.