My brother took my mother to the countryside for August – “let her have a break from the apartment building.” On Thursday, my mother called from a neighbor’s phone: she had run out of blood pressure medication, and “Wojtek can’t be bothered because he’s sick.” I brought the medication on Friday. My mother was waiting at the gate with a bag.
If I hadn’t left Łódź that Friday at 6 a.m., I probably would have been deluded to this day that my mother was resting at Wojtek’s. That she was doing well. That my brother was taking care of her, as promised.
But I did go. And I saw what I didn’t want to see.
The idea of leaving came at the beginning of July. Wojtek called on Sunday, which was strange in itself – he usually called once a month, briefly, to the point. This time, he talked a lot. That my mother was alone in that apartment building in Retkinia, that it was hot, that it was the third floor without an elevator, that she could rest at his place in the countryside. August, a garden, fresh air.
My mother didn’t want to go.
“Lucynka, I don’t know anyone there,” she said on the phone, and I could hear the TV playing in the background. “And who’s going to water my flowers on the balcony?”
“Mom, I’ll water the flowers. You’ll go, you’ll rest, you’ll come back with a tan.”
I persuaded her. I did. I still picture it in my mind—standing in the kitchen, shifting the phone from hand to hand, explaining to Mom that Wojtek meant well. That he was worried about her. That it was nice of him.
Mom went on August 1st. Wojtek took her in his car because Mom no longer takes long-distance buses. She’s seventy-eight years old, has blood pressure problems, and her knees are aggravating every step. Wojtek’s village is about one hundred and twenty kilometers away—too far for a connecting bus, too close to make a big trip out of it.
For the first week, she called every day. She said the garden was nice, that a neighbor had brought peas. In the second week, she started calling less often. Once, she said that Wojtek worked a lot in the fields and didn’t see him often. Another time, she said she was a bit tired, but it was probably the heat.
Nothing clicked for me. I should have listened more carefully.
