Chapter 5 - THE LAST MONTH OF ELENA CORVANE
Mother’s last illness lasted thirteen months.
The final month was different.
Pain increased.
Medication increased.
Her world narrowed.
Bedroom.
Garden terrace.
One sitting room.
Violetta.
Mostly Violetta.
Anatole loved Mother.
He was terrible at illness.
He managed logistics because logistics did not look back at him.
He negotiated with insurance.
Scheduled nurses.
Signed checks.
Asked doctors for percentages.
Then stood outside Mother’s bedroom and asked Violetta:
“How is she?”
Violetta answered.
I was angry with Mother before she became that sick.
Our fight began over Mara.
Mother said Mara did not understand the family.
Mara answered:
“I understand it. That’s the problem.”
Mother never forgave that sentence publicly.
Privately?
The letter said she wanted to apologize.
I never knew.
Violetta called me after Mother’s first hospitalization.
“She doesn’t want tension.”
“Does she want me there?”
“She wants peace.”
Not an answer.
I heard it as no.
Then Mara became pregnant.
We told Anatole.
He congratulated us.
Violetta said:
“Mother cannot handle another shock.”
A child.
A shock.
I hung up.
Weeks later, Mother sent flowers to Mara.
No card.
I assumed Anatole arranged them.
Maybe Mother did.
We never knew.
Then the final month.
I called.
Violetta answered.
“She’s asleep.”
Called again.
“Pain medication.”
Again.
“She asked for a quiet day.”
I believed.
Why?
Because Mother and I had said cruel things to each other.
It fit the guilt I already carried.
Then October 16.
I decided to go without permission.
Halfway there, Violetta called.
“Where are you?”
“Driving.”
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
“She knows you’re coming and she’s upset.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“She can barely speak.”
“Put the phone near her.”
“No.”
I turned around.
That choice belonged to me.
Violetta could lie.
I still chose to trust her over my own need to see Mother.
That mattered.
Then Mother died.
At the funeral, Violetta hugged me and whispered:
“She loved you. She just couldn’t do the conflict at the end.”
May you like
I had carried that sentence like mercy.
Now it sounded different.
