Darlene

I swear the older I get the more I lose track of time.  I think it was roughly 4-5 years ago that I was living with Darlene, an elderly lady (in her 70's) that was a patient of my mom's at the clinic she works at.  Darlene would come in once a week to have her INR checked and my mom is the INR nurse and they quickly became friends.  Darlene told her that she lived in Edina in a house by herself with her two dogs but was worried that she would have to sell her house soon because she wasn't able to keep up with the chores of the house on her own.  Her husband had died (I can't STAND when people say "passed away"...no, they fucking died, just say it.  That's what it is, it's called dying and people do it every day, don't try to sugar-coat it, you sound like a douche-fuck) decades before and she never remarried but stayed in the house that they built together roughly 50-some years earlier.  She mentioned to my mom that she usually had girls live with her who needed a place to stay or were in college and they would live rent-free in exchange for doing her house and yard work.  My mom told her that I was getting ready to move back home because the lease was up at my apartment and my roomie wanted to live with her boyfriend and I really had nowhere to go.  (I think my mom was like, YESSSS, a place for my 27 year-old kid to stay that's not  MY house!)  Guess where I went?

My plan was to stay for a year or two, save up money for a down payment on a house, and move out.  But instead I developed a wicked Target addiction and saved a grand total of fucking nothing while I was living there.  I lived a half a mile away from work so my gas was next to nothing, I had an old piece of shit vehicle that was paid off, no kids, I didn't have any credit cards, the only bills I had to pay was my cell phone and gym membership.  I even worked a second job at a bowling alley, not because I needed the money, but because I was bored and my friend was the manager and needed to hire someone so I was like, sure what the hell.  I had money coming out of my asshole so I did what any 27 year-old female would do: I fucking went shopping!  I also went to Vegas, naturally.

I was living there for almost a year to the date when Darlene was diagnosed with colon cancer.  I came home from work one day and she had a colonoscopy earlier that day.  She was sitting in her chair and as soon as I walked in she said, "Well, the doctor says it's cancer."  I wanted to say, shut the hell up, stop fucking with me!  But I knew by the look on her face that she was for real.  I was dumbfounded.  I didn't know what to say or do, I just stood there like a fucking moron.  She said she was going to start chemo and radiation the following week.  And then she changed the subject and started talking about the latest episode of The Bachelor that she had just watched.  Cancer?  Nah, she's got this.  Darlene is the toughest lady I know, cancer won't stand a chance.

I woke up on a cool April morning, a few days later, on a Saturday.  It was 11am and that was odd.  Usually I was woken up around 8 but no later than 9 by Darlene's yodeling.  She could yodel like no other.  Every damn morning.  I put on my workout clothes (this was back in the day when I took exercising seriously) and walked out into the family room.  Darlene was laying on the white leather couch, pale as a ghost.  She was weak, she could barely lift her head to look at me.  I asked her if she was okay and she said no.  She had blood in her stool that morning, a lot of blood.  I asked her if she wanted me to call my mom, she said no.  I asked her if she needed anything, she said no she was just going to rest for a while.  I said okay, I'm going out for a walk but I will be back in about 45 minutes to an hour.  I came back and she was still on the couch, still pale, still weak.  I hung around for the afternoon and kept an eye on her, did my chores.  I was supposed to go to a birthday party that night but I didn't want to leave her.  She knew it was Saturday night and that I usually go out, so when she figured out I was lingering around, she shooed me out of the house.  I felt terrible leaving her but she insisted.  I wasn't going to be gone all night, just until midnight or so.  She had my number and said she would call me or my mom if anything happened.

I got a call around 10pm from the neighbor; she had just admitted Darlene into the hospital and wanted to know if I was coming home that night so I could take care of the dogs.  Yes, I would be home, I said.  I would come home now if she wanted, I would go straight to the hospital and sit there if she wanted me to!  No, Darlene doesn't want that.  She just wants to know if you'll be home at some point to take care of the dogs because she's really sick.  Yes, I promised I would be home.

Darlene died (not passed away, damn it!) 6 days after she was diagnosed with colon cancer.  The night she went into the hospital she told her granddaughter that this was it; she wasn't going home this time.  She knew it was her time.  I think it was on a Monday or Tuesday that she died; I was at work down the street from the hospital when my mom called me, blubbering like a fucking retard and I could barely understand her.  "Darlene is dying!  Like, right now!", she managed to blurt out.  I freaked out.  I told my boss that I needed to go to the hospital, right now.  Darlene was dying and I needed to be there.  It was right down the street and I would be back.  (why the fuck did I say I would come back??)  I met my mom at the hospital and we went up to the floor where she was.  I started to recognize people; her sons, the neighbors, friends of hers that I met when they stopped over at the house, women that had lived with her in years past, like I was doing now.  But they were crying.  They lined the hallway, they wandered through the hallway like zombies, crying.  I found Barbie, the neighbor that came over the most and that I was most familiar with.  She's gone, she said.  She passed away (ughh) about a half hour ago.  Mom and I went into her room to see her.  We bawled, we kissed her good-bye.  I went back to work like I promised and was fucking worthless for the rest of the day.  The family said I could stay for as long as I wanted, there was no rush for me to move out.  The night after she died I went upstairs to the kitchen and her sweater was draped over the chair that she sat in, her pills and a glass of water was sitting on the counter at her spot.  The only thing I could smell was her perfume.  I freaked out and threw her pills away, washed the glass, put her sweater in her room.  I moved home 2 weeks later. 

Fast forward four (or or five, who knows!) years and here I am, living in my brother's basement (happily and contently) with Darlene's pride and joy, Rosie.  (her other dog, Jackson the adorable Yorkie who was the one that I really wanted, was taken by a family member) The day I moved out Darlene's granddaughter told me that they hadn't found a home for Rosie yet and if I wanted her, I could take her.  I didn't want her at all, honestly.  But I couldn't stand the thought of her all alone, without Darlene or Jackson, and my heart broke for her.  So she came home with me.  She's a fucking pain in my ass and I was so ready to dump her on someone else, anyone that would take her.  She whines non-stop, pees and poops on the floor daily, has little-dog syndrome and tries to fake-attack every dog she comes into contact with no matter how much bigger they are, is a fucking wreck when she has to ride in the car, and since she's pure white of course her doggie vagina hairs get stained yellow from her pee and I have to trim them weekly!  Damn it, I did NOT want this kind of high-maintenance dog!  But I've come to realize that I can't live without her crazy ass.  She's my baby, I really believe that we were meant to be together.  We are both nuts and she adores me so I guess we're a perfect fit. 

Darlene taught me a lot of things in the short year that I lived with her.  She taught me how to properly put frosting on a cake; I had been doing it wrong all these years.  She introduced me to vodka tonics and salmon, both of which I had never had but now love.  She said it was okay to get tipsy but don't get sloppy.  I never saw her without her eyeshadow and lipstick, it was a daily must-have.  She was into fashion and accessories and she used to sew like crazy but she was always aware of what sales were going on in which department store and could never pass up a good deal.  She always thought my pants were too long and made me put my foot on her knee a million times so she could examine my pants and tell me to leave them on the table so she could hem them up.   She didn't kick me out when I accidentally massacred her rose garden (that's a whole other story) when she very well could have and I wouldn't have blamed her.  She was a strong, tough, honest, loving, wonderful lady and I'm sad that I didn't get to spend more time with her.  I knew Darlene would want me to have a new dress for her funeral, so I went out and bought one.  She was by far the coolest ladies  I ever did have the pleasure to meet and I hope that one day when I am her age, I can be as cool as she was. 

Here's my gook.  I tried to call her a goof and a kook and it came out gook.  So she's a gook.