We were getting ready to go holo-holo.  We were talking story.  It was like nothing had happened.  We laughed, she grumbled, she joked, and we chatted about the stuff we normally talked about.  I was cleaning out the back of a new van (rental?) and packing stuff for our trip. Then, I fiddled - more like struggled - with the ice packs, new gadgets, and built-in coolers that this new innovative van had, she laughed and gave me suggestions. 

"Try put 'um dis way."

"Yeah... like dat. 

"Get 'um!"  You got it. She usually said that when things work out. 

The van was packed and Aunty Verna was going get it ready to go while we waited for uncle guys. I watched and chuckled as she adjusted the drivers seat fully upright and fairly close to the steering wheel... like she normally did.  She had started the van, reversed out of the parking space and was ready to go.  Aunty fiddled around with some stuff then looked out the drivers window.  At that point, mom and I shook our heads and grinned.  We both knew that Aunty was going yell for uncle guys to "Hurry up, let's go already!"

As we sat and waited, I opened a scrapbook of sorts with old pictures that I have never seen before.  I started to ask about them when I noticed an article about how a celebrity had faked her death and was talking about it to the person writing the piece on her.

The world shifted.  I looked at my mom, who was busy talking about cooking, and stared at her in puzzlement.  Was she supposed to be here?  Something in the back of my mind recalled that she had left us... that she was supposed to be dead. I wanted to ask her what happened, how is that she was here... 

And then, I woke up and cried.

I knew I had been dreaming of her often, but my day usually starts with so many tasks and thoughts of tasks - that I never remember them.  And when I try to think back on them, they all seem to be like this dream:  Normal, as if nothing had happened.  What does it mean?  Is my subconsious making sure I remember her life and not her death? Or am I in denial - that I am trying not to think of her death? Is my mom herself (and this time, my Aunty too) visiting with me in my dreams? 

How are you?

If you have to ask... I'm okay.

Because it's easier than saying,

My chest hurts when thoughts of her come to me
before sleep does. 

It hurts in the wee hours when I'm semi-conscious
waking from a dream

It hurts when I wake in the morning and reality hits
that she is not here.

So, if you have to ask...
I'm okay.

Eh.  That was harsh.

Yeah, so I was pissed.  I admit I am at fault too. The blame isn't totally hers, don't get me wrong.  I'm not against the boys coming over, it's just they haven't learned consequences, respect, or boundaries.  They have to abide by house rules, if they can't even do that, it's not fair for this family.  I was thinking that I should step up and enforce some sort of discipline. I guess, I assumed that it is not my place...

I can't have an impressionable 2 year old learning phrases like, "I want to kill you!" or "I hate you!" (both were directed to his older brother) or learning to throw things at people (Papa and his dad).  She already picked up "NO!" and kicking in the 2 days he was here.  It is one thing to have boys who "will be boys" but it is another thing to allow violence and disrepect in this household and have it affect everyone the way it is.  My father and mother adhere to traditional asian upbringing where respect and discipline is important and being around this kind of behavior is very taxing and stressful for them, especially my mom, in her condition.

Yes, I need to re-evaluate my role in all this but where is the line? What is the compromise? I don't deny them but I can't let that kind of behavior into this household.