They Left

My parents and youngest brother left today. (I started to type this the day the left which was Thursday, December 1st) I wasn't able to take them to the airport because I had to go to work. I slept in my bed with my mother, because I refused to sleep with my brother on the area bed in my living room. He's sick and there is no way I'm getting myself sick. Low immune system and with this crazy New York weather, I am not chancing it. I woke my mother up in the middle of the night because she sounded like she was choking on her own breath. My worst fear, my mother die. It scared me practically to death. Then one night she told me I sat up and spoke in Italian. She asked me what was wrong and I told her that I thought they took the covers off me. Hmm I wonder who I was talking about. Anyway... It was Monday when we finally went to my apartment after being in the Bronx since Thursday. Before heading to my apartment I had to get my cat some litter for her litter box and my parents wanted to go to the cemetery to visit my brother. My parents live in Florida and never get a chance to visit their son's grave.

Like any father who is in his 70's, I kept getting yelled at while I was driving by my dad. Turn here, turn there, go this way, go that way, do this, do that, why do you get yourself so aggravated, you're too close to the car, you're this, you're that. Ahhhhhh!! My fathers mind is slowly going and he's driving mine up the wall. I love him to death. I would give my life for his. It's crazy how much you can miss your parents when they live so far away. We are a close family and to be so far apart kills me. Living with them now would kill me too. My nerves would be shot and I would be balled. I left my parents in the parking lot as I purchased the litter. I get back in and we drive off to the cemetery that was across the street. My father wanted me to stop and get flowers first. He yelled at me for the way I was positioning my car for him to get out. I was only trying to make it easier for him and for myself due to the u-turn I would have to pull getting out of the spot. So as he got out, my mother and I rolled our eyes and said he was a crazy man. He comes back with two bunches of flowers.

"Wow they're still the same. Five dollars. No more, no less."

I watched my father hold onto the flowers, I felt his pain. I felt the pain hit me from the back seat of my car. My mother. I knew this was going to be hard. Before my parents moved away, I would go with them to the cemetery and watch them as I was slowly dying, cry over my brothers grave. The weakness, the pale color on their face. Their scarred soul. I would cry more in the inside and shed a river out. I had to act strong for my parents. I had to hold them up. I had to embrace them when I had no strength myself. I had to understand that they were in more pain than me and I couldn't imagine more pain than what I felt. So that day (Monday) we went back to the cemetery, I knew it was a long time since they've been there last. Someone dug a grave up and piled a hill of soil on my brothers resting place. Thank goodness his tomb stone wasn't covered. It was cold and my father stuck two green metal vases in the ground with the plastic still on it. To watch him, put my heart right into my stomach. He put the flowers in and I poured some water I had in an one liter coke bottle. I had to be strong once again. My father stood straight and said

"Martino, we are here."

Right there and then I grabbed my parents and cried like a baby telling them how much I love them and there we were, crying. They begged me to move down to Florida, that I would live like a princess. I knew deep in my heart that I wouldn't. I couldn't take all the screaming and yelling and the old age. So then three days later they left. I love you MAMMA E PAPA!