For the third night in a row Paul North left me at my door, no longer a sumptuous suite but a common room similar to my earlier quarters. I neither asked him to stay nor did he make any move to do so. It was as if both of us were aware of the evolution of our tenuous relationship and saw no need to further complicate it with physical involvement. Alone in my room, I thought about what I'd agreed to do the following day; spend hours more with Paul North and see my mother. I couldn't lose the queasy churning in my stomach. Which chore was the more troublesome? Though our differences terrified me, part of me wanted this man in my life. Equally terrifying was my agreement to see my mother for the first time in two decades.
Doug and I were living in Germany when Mom suffered her first stroke. She wasn't expected to survive, or so my sister's cable read. Doug wanted nothing to do with my mother, and I know now why. In spite of the hurt I felt and the festering disagreement, I wanted desperately to fly home and see her. He insisted we didn't have the funds which he handled. My not coming heightened the rift. While Suzie continued to describe my mother's slow recovery, her letters were infrequent and impersonal. I responded, in a warmer tone, but nothing slowed our drift apart.
My mother survived that ordeal and several others over the years, or so I was advised in a few notes a year from my sister, each testier than the last. The first few years, my excuse for not visiting was being stationed in Germany, later in England. When we relocated stateside, before Alaska, my justification became more creative, but I'm sure less believable until it became obvious to my sister I'd abdicated my mother's care exclusively to her. Finally, Suzie could no longer care for our mother and she moved to a care facility. I sent some money, mostly without my husband's knowledge, and more after he died, but I never visited. Until now.
My sister Suzie and her family moved into our family home just before my abrupt departure to marry Doug. She remains there to this day. When mother was released from the hospital, she too resided there, for sixteen long years. Early on, I tried to convince myself Suzie's free lodging carried with it care giving responsibilities but I knew in my heart I was being selfish. Guilt diminished with the years as other problems took their place in my growing list of mistakes. The guilt diminished, but never went away. My recent conversation with my sister multiplied my anguish tenfold.