Gate Keeper

Perhaps I should have left the moment Deirdre called me, but instead I waited about six-hours and now, it was too late. I had already stopped at Eureka General and now I was pulling up into the driveway at Mom and Del’s home.

However it was no longer Del’s home either. He had passed away while I drove from Reno to the hospital.

Del Middleton and Mom had been married since 1989. It was a second marriage for both and I was happy to call him my step-dad.

Del was the only family member to express his sorrow for my real dad’s passing nearly two-years earlier. That meant an awful lot to me and I told him so, time and again.

The house was locked up tight and I couldn’t get Mom to answer the phone. I was certain that after the last 24-hours she was finally getting some much-needed sleep, so I decided to go to the local Chinese restaurant and get myself something to eat.

Later in the evening I called again and Mom answered. She apologized for not answering earlier, telling me that the door was unlocked and to come in and that she’d be back in bed.

Since I was staying with Mom, I became her gate-keeper, meaning no one saw her unless it was okay with her, this included the numerous telephone calls.  By the end of the second day, there must have been 30 plates of food and pies, several dozen balloons and nearly as many sympathy cards.

Also on the second day, Mom was able to will herself out of bed and have breakfast with me, though she didn’t eat much. She started talking about how Del’s death had transpired earlier in the week.

It began with Del taking their old dog Freckles to the vet and have the dog euthanized. Freckles was old and crippled up ever since she tangled with a bobcat a year or so earlier.

The next day, Del fell ill. He was having trouble breathing and was complaining of severe chest pains.

Mom said, “Freckles must have known something about Del that we didn’t.”

Delmar had multiple sclerosis, congestive heart failure, emphysema and was HIV positive. He had contracted the virus that causes AIDS through a blood transfusion during open heart surgery.

It took Del three days to succumb to heart failure. In that time, nearly a hundred people came to his bedside to say their goodbyes, including close family.

But like I already said, I was too late to say goodbye to Del. Therefore, since I was removed from the directness of his death, I was the one to handle Mom and his business that week.

“Your tardiness,” Mom told me, “is my blessing.”