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Excerpts from
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A Memoir by Lisa “Jean” Madden,© 2011
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For years I didn’t really understand there was something wrong, everything that happened just seemed normal. |
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Fuzzy Bracelets The first time I saw my mother during visiting hours I was almost six. I was taken to the hospital by a woman from the church we had been attending when my dad was still around. I’m not sure where my older half-siblings Jessica (age 16), Jake (age 15), Jack (age 11), and Jillian (age 10)- yes, my mother Jina with a “J” really did name all of her children with the same initial, were at the time. All I know is that I went to the hospital alone. During the 25-mile drive from the mountain town where we lived to the hospital in the city below, the woman from the church chatted endlessly about things unimportant to me; things like how I was doing in school and when was the last time I had attended religious services or prayed. When I asked her about why my mom was in the hospital she just told me what everyone else had; “She’s hurt.” That answer was all I could get from anyone. It wasn’t very reassuring. I picked at the large scab on my boney knee just below the hem of my white frilly dress and tried not to think about how my mother might be injured. I didn’t understand at all why Mom had to be in the hospital and I was scared. In fact, I had been scared ever since my half-brother Jack told me something bad had happened to her. On the day I visited my mom with the woman from the Mormon Church, I had prepared myself for the worst. After we parked and went into the hospital my concern grew. I got really worried as we walked the long hall towards my mother’s room. The dinging alarms from strange equipment and the smell of vomit mixed with disinfectant intensified my fears that something bad had happened to Mom. I tightened my grip onto the hand of the woman as we walked. She told me everything was going to be OK but I didn’t believe her. When we finally reached my mother’s room, the woman used her hands to smooth down my fine blonde hair and took a tissue from her purse to remove any dirt on my face. She laughed when one wouldn’t come off. “Oh Jean, that smudge is just one of your freckles.” she said giggling. Before she opened to door, I looked up and she smiled reassuringly. I smiled back but I didn’t feel so good. Mom was behind the door perhaps asleep forever or so bloody I might be forced to hide from her. As we entered the room relief washed over me. Mom was reclined on a partially raised hospital bed in a white gown with light blue diamonds printed on it. She smiled when she saw me. Her face looked pale and her blonde hair was dirty, but she wasn’t asleep forever, nor was she attached to any strange equipment like the kind I had seen earlier when we walked down the hall. The only thing that seemed unusual was the white gauze wrapped around her wrists like fuzzy bracelets. I released the woman’s hand and ran over to hug my mother. She leaned over the side of the bed to hug me. “Oh Sweetie, it’s so good to see you.” She said while I hugged her as hard as I could. “Mommy, when will you be coming home?” I asked enjoying being close to her again. “I don’t know Baby. We have to wait until the doctors say it’s OK.” “Why? What’s wrong with you?” I questioned while tightening my grip hoping find reassurance in her body. “Nothing Baby! I’m just tired.” She said beginning to cry. Frightened that I had hurt her, I stopped hugging and gently moved my arms to my side. I stepped back and looked at her beautiful face but it was so sad that I looked away again. “I’m sorry Mommy. I didn’t mean to hug you so hard.” I said feeling bad about having hurt her with what must have been my superhero strength. She began to cry more. “It’s OK Mommy, I won’t hug you anymore.” I said hoping I could make her stop crying if I promised not to hurt her again, but her sobs just grew louder. Telling my mom that we should go, the woman that had brought me came over and took me by the hand again. She led me towards the door. Trying to control herself, Mom wiped her face with the sheet and called after us. “No, not yet… please don’t take her yet!” She pleaded as the woman open the door. “Jean Honey, go get my purse on the chair over there and bring it here.” She said pointing. Her hand shook and I could see a small stain of dried blood on the gauze covering her wrist. Blood…it was my first sign that she was injured in some way. Not sure what to do, I looked up at the woman for guidance. She nodded and let go of my hand. I walked over to Mom’s brown leather purse and picked it up. Slowly I handed it to her trying to make sure that I didn’t hurt her again. She dug through it until she found a piece of hard candy. The wrapper was dirty and small bits of loose tobacco were stuck to the seam where the paper had come open slightly. “Here Baby, this is for you.” Mom said as she held it towards me. I reached up and took it from her. She smiled. I smiled back, relieved that she wasn’t crying anymore. “Go ahead Baby, eat it!” Mom encouraged. Quickly, I tore off the wrapper, wiped off the bits of tobacco, and popped it into my mouth. It tasted like black licorice, which I hated. “It’s good Mommy. Thank you.” I said trying not to suck on candy. Mom’s face lit up. The woman took my hand again and said we should go. I swallowed the candy whole and turned towards Mom with my mouth wide open. I wanted to show her that I had finished her gift. She smiled at me again, but her face seemed sad. As the woman led me from the room Mom waved goodbye. Gauze from one of her fuzzy bracelets had come loose and I could see a large cut on her wrist. I started to ask what had happened but the door closed between us.
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