Letting Go

Gary almost fainted when the smell from inside the microwave hit him. He couldn’t comprehend how his mother could tolerate that odor. Pinching his nose tightly, he leaned down to look and make certain there was no animal carcass inside. All he saw were layers of spills on the walls resembling some sort of hieroglyphics written in old tomato sauce and crusty bits of food. The house that personified orderliness throughout his childhood grew in chaos with each visit home from college.  

           Gary thought back over the signs of change. It had always just been the two of them. His father was never in the picture, and there was no extended family. Beyond her work at the hospital as an emergency room nurse, he was her world. His first visit home from college was almost two months after he left. Phone calls between them had been sporadic at best, and he seemed to be busy every time she called. Any email was mostly out of necessity.

Nothing had changed from the outside. Inside, it was still presentable, but a carelessness seemed to be invading. Magazines weren’t stacked as neatly on the coffee table and cups were left in the sink instead of being immediately rinsed. A glance into her bedroom showed partially closed drawers, scattered books, and a cluttered make up table hidden by more bottles than he had seen before.

           When he tried to ask her about it, her gay laugh jarred him. “Oh, Gary, your mother is allowed to have some pleasure, isn’t she? I’m trying out some of the polish I saw on the toenails of a girl in the yoga class I’m taking.”

That playful response confused him. Spontaneous laughter was foreign to her character. The class was just as puzzling. Before he could react, she had kicked off her shoes and proudly displayed her hidden brightly colored toes. The discarded pumps were left where they landed as she ran off to the bedroom to gather up some of the various shades.

           Every visit home after that found his confusion expanding. She still looked like his mother, but her actions were becoming those of a bad imposter. The yoga class disappeared and was replaced by craft projects. Bins filled with beads, glitter, blocks of foam, yarn, and things he simply couldn’t identify surrounded him. A hot glue gun lay on the kitchen table and there were at least 8 different scrapbooks that she had started. Pictures and pieces of paper were scattered everywhere.

           The personality change was just as glaring. On another visit, he was hiding in his room when he heard the unfamiliar sound of braying laughter coming from the family room. When he came out, he found his mother laying on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn on her midsection with Young Frankenstein playing on the television.

           “Gary, get in here! You have to see this!” She swung around and patted the spot next to her. “Come watch with me!” He couldn’t help but think “crazy.” The woman sitting there seemed manic over an old movie.

           He shifted uneasily. “Sorry, Mom, but I’ve got a major Econ exam on Monday, and I really need to hit the books.”

           His eyes widened as she threw a piece of popcorn at him. She left it lay where it landed. “Don’t be such a party poop! I hardly get to see you.”

           Gary’s stomach tightened at the scene playing out before him. All he wanted to do was run from the room, grab his stuff and head back to campus as fast as he could. Her work as an E.R. nurse made her seem unflappable, but he was not. The merest sign of trouble caused him to withdraw into his shell and wait until he felt he could safely reemerge.

Uneasily, he took a seat and tried to lose himself in the movie. Any attempt at enjoyment was derailed by his mother’s constant raucous laughter assaulting his senses. Gary forced his own laughter as he desperately tried to fit in. There were times during the film when he felt sweat forming on his brow as his flight mechanism kicked in.

The film mercifully came to a close after 90 minutes of unrestrained hilarity from her and deep anxiety from him. Gary leapt to his feet to make his escape. “Thanks, Mom, for the movie, but I need to get back to the books. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She grabbed his hand and held him in place. “Sweetie, I’m worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” Why on earth are you worried about me?”

“You aren’t enjoying life! Studying on a Saturday night isn’t normal for someone your age. You should be out with some girl sowing your wild oats.” Her brow wrinkled in thought. “Or maybe it would be a young man? Honestly, I don’t care as long as you’re having fun!”

“I do have fun, Mom. I’ve dated plenty of girls and have tons of friends. I just need to study is all. Don’t make a federal case out of it.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for caring, but I’m fine. I’ll be better if you let me study.”

She pulled Gary in for a long, tight and, from his standpoint, a very uncomfortable hug. “Alright but promise me you won’t sneak out in the morning.”

He felt a slight pang of guilt at her realization he might run out. “No, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning, but I need to get an early start, okay?”

“Sure thing. You have a good night now.”

His visits home became even more sporadic and each one became a louder warning bell. She had moved on to finding things and trying to sell them online. Discarded pieces of furniture, household goods, clothing, garden hoses, tires and other debris filled up the garage and spilled into the yard. Paths were being formed in the house as a means of getting from one spot to another. The kitchen counters all but disappeared.

The disarray of the house spread like an invading army through every room including his own. Each time he tried to repel the invaders, the horde would gradually retake the territory. There was no point in trying to discuss it with his mother as she had moved from being lighthearted and carefree to defensive.

“Just leave it, Gary! It’s mine, and I know what I want to do with it!”

It only heightened his urge to avoid.

The filth of the microwave drove Gary to cut ties with his mother. Contact was no more than a rare phone call or email. Avoidance was the only way to duck the horror unfolding at home. Gary bounced from house to house of his various friends and his mother accepted his all of his excuses until she didn’t bother to ask. Any guilt he felt wasn’t powerful enough to get him to go back.

His plan of avoidance came crashing down on him when he tried to register for his second semester junior classes. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t paid your tuition so you can’t register,” the woman stated. It was unthinkable. His mother was never late in paying. When he looked at his checking account, there had been no deposit there for more than two months. Funds were running low.

Now he had no alternative but to reach out. The changes in her made it like calling a complete stranger. There was no answer, but he couldn’t leave a message since the nameless bot informed him the mailbox was full. He stared at the phone in his hand. What the hell is going on? The landline’s message told him the number was no longer in service.

Worry grew into terror. He found the number for Sheridan Hospital’s ER. “Hi, this is Gary McBride, Gretchen’s son, and I was wondering if she’s working right now?”

“Who did you say you were?” There was a note of suspicion in the woman’s voice.

“Gary McBride. I’m worried because I can’t reach her.”

“Listen, whoever you are, Gretchen retired nearly a year ago. If you were Gary, you should know that.” The line went dead.

Waves of nausea came over him as he began to pace around his small room. Everything seemed just as it always did. His books were lined up with his laptop in the middle of his desk. There were pictures of his current girlfriend, his buddies around a keg, and one with his best friend at their high school graduation. They were giving the camera the finger as they grinned in their caps and gowns. As he grasped for reality, it hit him; he had no pictures of his mother anywhere.

He grabbed clothes and crammed them into a gym bag. The answers were waiting back at the house he had been avoiding. Gary clutched the wheel in his hands and the highway seemed to blur. He was running on autopilot where nothing could invade his brain but the thoughts that were consuming him.

How could she be sick, and I don’t know anything about it? When did I last speak to her? I can’t even remember! That woman said she left a year ago. She’s never sounded sick on the phone. She was different, but not sick. Was I even listening? What’s wrong with her? This is just too crazy!

His spiral continued throughout his journey. He couldn’t deny his refusal to engage even when he knew something wasn’t right. His response had been to distance himself from her. She had been removed with surgical precision.

He hadn’t been home for more than a year. Everything looked the same with neat ranch-style houses flanking the street. Thankfully, and yet eerily, his house had improved since he last saw it. The lawn was neat again and everything looked normal from the outside. Gary’s body sagged in relief that whatever his mother was suffering was apparently better. There was never much talk of religion between them, but Gary couldn’t help but offer a little prayer of thanks as he pulled into the driveway.

He ran to the front door, but he found his housekey wouldn’t go into the lock. If he wanted answers, he needed to ring the doorbell, but his hand seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. It took every ounce of his concentration to raise it and press the button.

Gary almost fainted when a pleasant looking young woman holding a baby opened the door. “Can I help you?”

Gary could do nothing but stare. Behind her, he could see the living room, but there wasn’t a thing he recognized. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a playpen filled with toys. The photos on the walls were of complete strangers. His look must have scared the young woman as she clutched her child a little closer. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t stand here.” She began to close the door in his face.

“Wait!” he cried. “What happened to the lady that used to live here?” An inner voice cautioned him to go slowly. “I, uh, lost touch, and I thought I would drop in for a visit.”

Her face softened. “You’re talking about poor Mrs. McBride. I hate to tell you, but apparently, she had a complete mental breakdown. Her brother had to institutionalize her and get everything cleaned up. We rented the house about three months ago.”

“Brother? She didn’t have a brother!” The woman lost her pleasant look once again. “I thought it was just her and her son.”

“I told you all I know, and I really have to go.” The door closed firmly, and he could hear the lock click. He wanted to pound on the door and shove his driver’s license that showed this very address as his home. The thought of her calling the police scared him off of that idea.

Gary got back in his car with no idea where to go. Everything he thought he knew was taken away from him. Gary saw Mrs. Carter was working in her yard, and with no other choice, he drove back down the street and parked in front of her house.

“Mrs. Carter?” His voice was so hesitant it sounded almost shy. “It’s me, Gary McBride.”

She didn’t look up. “I know who you are,” she snapped. “You’re the boy who abandoned his mother when she needed you.”

Her sharp words slapped his face. “Please, Mrs. Carter, just tell me what you know, and I won’t bother you again. I promise. Just help me…please.”

She never stopped weeding. “You knew what was going on. It was a disgrace. It was like a cancer growing over there. Several of us called the health department when we saw a rat around your house. The smell was disgusting. Your mother was so belligerent she was taken away by the sheriff.”

“Oh my god. When was this?”

“Almost a year ago. They had to lock her up. Your uncle took care of things.”

“What uncle?” he protested. “Mom said she was an only child. Where’s my mother?”

Mrs. Carter put her garden trowel on the ground and stared at him. “Listen, Gary, maybe he wasn’t her brother, but at least he acted like he cared and did something. That’s all I know. I doubt there’s a person on this street that can tell you anything. Now, this begonia bed won’t weed itself.”

She turned without waiting for any response and went back to work. Gary felt the same nausea he experienced in his dorm room come back.

Just as Gary got to his car, his cell began to ring. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he couldn’t resist the urge to answer. He heard the familiar voice with its even tones. “Gary, it’s your mother.”

“Mom! What the hell is going on? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Meet me on the bench in Buchanan Park. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“But what…” There was nothing but silence on the other end. Gary wheeled the car around and headed to the park. He forced himself to take deep breaths along the way as a means of calming himself. Whatever relief he felt at hearing his mother’s voice was crowded out by fear.

As he slammed into a parking space, his mother was waiting for him but she wasn’t alone. There was a man seated next to her with his arm around her. The stranger stood and walked away before Gary could reach them.

When he got to her, Gary grabbed her in a tight hug but her return grasp was not as firm. “Oh my god, Mom, I’ve been scared all day. I’m glad you’re okay. I didn’t know what to think.”

She broke free from his grasp and simply said, “Sit down, Gary.” He couldn’t help but notice his mother kept a little distance between them. “I’m sure by this time you know I’ve been sick and I’m out of that house. I’m still struggling but I’m getting better.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t believe you had to rent the house out to someone else.”

“I’m not renting it to anyone. It was never ours to begin with.”

“But we lived there all my life!”

“The man over there owns it. He’s your father.”

The spinning began again. She said it as calmly as if she were asking to pass the butter. He jumped to his feet and began to lose the control he had tried to maintain. “My father? This is the way you tell me that I have a father?” Gary’s voice began to get louder. “First you don’t let me know you’re sick and you’ve given up our home. Now you tell me that guy is my father? Are you deliberately trying to ruin my life?”

His mother couldn’t suppress the small laugh. Her tone was not accusatory but simply factual. “Why would I call you? You’ve avoided me ever since you saw me start to struggle. I know now I wasn’t prepared to give you up. Letting go of you was hard and that’s what triggered everything going wrong. You did what you always do when things aren’t right. You ran. You can let go. That hurt me more than you will ever know. Yes, you have a father. I got pregnant, but neither one of us wanted to marry the other. I was fine with being a single mom. You were mine and I didn’t want to share you with anyone. Paul is a good man and he insisted on helping to support you, so he paid for your college, your braces, and even your piano lessons. He bought that house so we could have a place to live.”

Gary sat back down and put his head in his hands. “And the man people said was my uncle?”

“That was Paul. They don’t need to know our business.”

“But where’s our home now, Mom?”

“My home is a small apartment I can manage. Your home is wherever you want it to be because, Gary, you’re on your own…for everything.”

“But…”

She held up her hand. “You’ve done very well on your own for a long time figuring out ways to avoid me. You let go, so you don’t need me now. You’re a clever boy when you put your mind to it.” She stood up and looked down on Gary who hadn’t moved. “I’m getting better, Gary. When you get better, you can track me down and we’ll try again. Like I said, you’re a clever boy.”

There was no hug. Just a hand placed on his shoulder. He watched her walk away and go off with the stranger. Paul. His father. Gary had been removed from her life with surgical precision. His mother learned to let go.