He submitted a bunch of his stories to literary agents and had no luck, but one told him he should concentrate on writing a novel instead. But what could he write about? His life, he realized certainly had enough material. My Life, by Lloyd Kulligan. It could be for insomniacs. Maybe, he thought, if he called it fiction and added some extra hyperbole to spice it up that might work.
He began writing at work, why waste precious free time, and found that he enjoyed documenting his life=s travails. It was cathartic in a way, and forced him to contemplate his life choices, and the repercussions of many of his decisions. But he had few regrets, check that, his life was full of regrets. He was the Anti-Sinatra. Regrets, he had a few, but then again, way too many to mention.
Lloyd was now 40. Jake was now entering second grade, and was a wonderful, sensitive, creative, athletic, and funny boy, a dream come true, pretty much everything Lloyd could have wished for in a son. Becky was as beautiful as the day he married her, if not more. Lloyd, was now a fat ass, an irony considering he was mocked for his boniness when younger. He had a gut and figured Becky must cringe every time he climbed on top of her and lunged like a stricken manatee.
Merrill Kulligan now had trouble walking, and spent most of her time in bed. The family had always felt that she was special and would beat the cancer in the end, in fact they attributed her retiring to her bed as mental and not physical, and they begged her to see a doctor. Lloyd was starting to be openly disdainful of her behavior and as she barely shuffled into the waiting room of the oncology unit, he scoffed at all the people looking at her like she was near death.
The doctor asked Lloyd and his father if they had an end of life plan, and it hit them like a ton of bricks. Her doctors had previously said she could live possibly five years after the diagnosis, and it had only been two. They were massively flustered. They ran some tests on her, and Lloyd was sure they would be fine.
The Kübler‑Ross model, commonly known as the five stages of grief, was first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler‑Ross in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying.
It describes, in five discrete stages, a process by which people deal with grief and tragedy, especially when diagnosed with a terminal illness or catastrophic loss. In addition to this, her book brought mainstream awareness to the sensitivity required for better treatment of individuals who are dealing with a fatal disease. The first stage was Denial.
Denial worked for him. The tests came back a few days later and the worst was upon them. She had maybe three or four months. Merrill took the news blankly and had no reaction. She looked over to Lloyd and shrugged. AIt will be ok, Eddie.@ The rest of the family collapsed into a sobbing heap.
At this point, Merrill took to her bed and it was a matter of when, not if. She was on her deathbed, and Lloyd needed to accept it. Merrill did. She never complained or seem scared about her coming fate. Becky had gown tremendously fond of her over the years, and felt she owed it to her to help her in any way she could. She asked Merrill if there was anything she could do, and mentioned that sometimes people in the last stages of life like to hear what they meant to those closest to them. Would she like her husband and kids to write a letter to her?
Having her kids author something about her made a sort of sense. Being the voracious reader that she was, having something in writing about her was apropos. He had already been enlisted to deliver her eulogy, and so he set about writing the two hardest things he had ever written.
In the meanwhile he was still penning his great opus about his life and he was living in one of the final chapters. His mother=s march to death. He was going to finish the book, he was almost halfway done, and he had hoped his mother would live to see it. He was under no illusions it would ever be published, but he wanted something tangible of his talents, that his mother could possibly appreciate and be proud of.
He had never reached his full potential and his mother wouldn=t live to see if he ever would. He had come to terms with her death and could talk about it freely, and writing the letter to her wasn=t that difficult until he got to the part about himself. He hoped she was proud of him. Writing that made him choke up and start crying. He knew he was a good son, but an underachiever. That was what he was, and he knew it. His mom would never see him reach his full potential.
Ellen had written her letter, but there was no way she could read it to her mom, so dad read it. Merrill was the most mentally strong woman in the history of the world, and she didn=t break up at all. As Nathan read her words, Ellen=s anguish was too much and she got up and left the room. As she did, Merrill in her understated, dryly comic way said, AThere she goes.@ and Lloyd laughed. His mother had impeccable timing, even in her last days.
It was Lloyd=s turn and he took a deep breath and began reading...
AMother, I don=t want to write this. You know how I feel about you, I don=t need to tell you anything you don=t know. And I know how you feel. We are not ones to talk about our feelings, but nevertheless I shall try. I am devastated and heartbroken. I thought you would get better and I have been waiting for it to happen. I have come to terms with losing you and I will be ok. Dad will be ok, and we will take care of Ellen.
I have been trying to think about why Ellen and I were always so devoted to you and followed your word as the gospel. You were unequivocal. You were the boss. In your life, in your beliefs and in your actions, and that was comforting. There was no Amaybe@ or Awe=ll see@, it was MY WAY or no way. You and Dad were the rocks in our life, always there. You were always dumbfounded at my insecurities, as you had none, and you would tell me that I was foolish for thinking any less of myself, and you were certain I was wrong, and I believed you. I always believed you. You were always right. About everything. Your friends always wondered what the deal was with our devotion, and you would shrug. But we all knew. I think part of it was that we were always clamoring for your affections, you were like a cat, always glad to be pet, but didn=t exactly seek it out, and we were all fine with that. And we liked it that way.
We missed you when you went on vacations, kids can=t wait for their independence. Not us. We liked our mommy and daddy. And then what I must have put you through with my homesickness at college. It wasn=t until recently that I realized how hard that must have been on you. I feel bad about that.
But we also didn=t rebel, and I have thinking about that, too. You and Dad always treated us fairly and we never felt the need to test any boundaries, because we liked our Mom and Dad. You never patronized or condescended to us. We had a healthy fear of you. That mouth. You weren=t our Afriend@ and weren=t lax in punishment, but you made us secure. It was the comfort level you created. There was never tension.
You were fiercely independent, you dictated life, you didn=t let life dictate you, and your certainness about everything was your finest quality. I never heard you doubt yourself, or anything, it was amazing. You were not programmed that way. I always wished I could be like that. I think I am in many ways, my humor is directly from you. The sarcasm and the putdowns and the dead panning.
I was not independent for many years, and I could not make a decision without your input and that may have been detrimental to my growth. If you wouldn=t have given your approval for me to marry Becky, I don=t know what would have happened.
This is horrible momma. I will miss you so bad. But I think there is a part of you I think that did this on purpose, the last two years, to make it a little bit easier on us. Your mind is no match for anyone.
I love you, mom. Becky loves you and Jake loves you. It is not fair you won=t get to see Jake grow up. I will make sure he knows all about you. He will remember his baybay, too. I will make sure Dad and Ellen are Ok, I will be ok, and I am ready for this, and I want you to have peace.
I hope I have led a life you are proud of...@
At this point Lloyd began to sob heavily. It was weird that this was what choked him up. A child must always need his parents approval. His mother leaned over and made a tsk tsk sound, and shook her
head. AEddie, Eddie, Eddie@ she whispered. He smiled back.
His dad was crying, something Lloyd had only seen once before in his life, when his own father died.
He composed himself and continued on...
AI know I underachieved in my career, slow to grow, slow to grow, but I think I over-achieved family wise and that is what is most important to me. Never fear, I plan on sponging off of dad for many more years.
My favorite memories in life, are our family gatherings, the holidays and being together. More than any other memories I have with my friends or anything. I am a family person, and that defines me. I will miss that the most.
I hope you have no doubts because you shouldn=t. There is nothing you need to say to me. There is nothing to forgive. You told me the other day I was a good son and that you love me. I knew that. You know I love you and were a good mother. You were the best. You know that. You can go in peace. I don=t want to see that either. I hope this helped you and I hope this is what you needed to hear.@
She showed no emotion, but thanked him for it. His mother was a rock, as always. He was happy in a way.
Jake came into the room. He was now 8 years old, and understood what was happening. Baybay leaned over and sniffed his head, and he laughed. It would be the last time he saw her.
The mood lightened slightly and they went back to reminiscing. At one point Lloyd mentioned that he was as horny at 40 as he was at 19 and that he would have sex with Becky on her coffin. That made her laugh, and Lloyd was grateful Becky had left the room.
But Lloyd had one last thing he wanted to tell her. He had made a decision that if he ever got his book published he was going to have a pseudonym. Instead of Lloyd Kulligan he was going to be Lloyd Merrill. It would be a perfect way to honor his mother.
Two weeks later, they were visiting her again, and she was deteriorating rapidly. She was barely cognizant of people in the room and was starting to hallucinate. After they left, she jumped up and in a panicky voice yelled ALloyd, something is wrong with Lloyd! Where=s Lloyd!@ her caretaker assured her all was well and laid her back down. The end was near.
The next day Lloyd was at work, and started sweating profusely and he started to pace. It felt like a panic attack. It made sense, what with his mother on her deathbed. He called Becky in a panic and told her something was wrong. She told him to calm down. Within seconds of talking to her, he puked on his office floor. He rushed home. His temperature was 102 degrees. It wasn=t psychological. .
The next morning he woke up and still felt shitty. His temperature was up again, and now he noticed a big red splotch on his leg. He wasn=t one to panic, but this was so odd that he called his doctor and they told him to come in immediately.
The doctor took a look at it, and quickly diagnosed it as a skin infection and that he should probably go to the emergency room. Lloyd asked if that was really necessary as his mother was near death and that he couldn=t be in the hospital. The doctor told him that if the rash stays the size, and his temperature stays the same he should be ok. He also prescribed some antibiotics for the rash, which at this point was the size of a silver dollar. His temperature was down to 100 and it appeared he was out of the woods.
He had driven himself to the hospital and as he was driving home he got woozy and almost slammed into a car in front of him. Once he got inside, he took his temperature and it had shot back up to 103.5.
An hour later he looked down at his leg and the rash was now spreading up the calf. His temperature didn=t subside and he paged his doctor for more advice, who told him he needed to go to the hospital immediately. He called Becky at her work, and she rushed home and took him to the emergency room. He had never been to an ER in his life, and had never been close to being hospitalized. He had never broken a bone, never had his tonsils out. Nothing.
As they sat in the ER, he felt sort of foolish, as it appeared it wasn=t really necessary. The rash had spread, but his temperature had fallen, and the doctors treating him weren=t acting like they do on TV, all rushed and panicky. The doctor told him that once his blood level tests came back he could probably go home. He felt kind of sheepish, but was relieved that he would be released soon.
Five minutes later the doctor came rushing back in and said they needed to run some tests immediately as his heart rate was up to 140 and his white blood cell count was through the roof. What that meant was that his body was fighting a massive infection
Hearing that he had such a high heart rate scared the shit out of him and Becky. They asked what was going on, and the doctor just shrugged. They needed to run more tests and whisked him out of the room while he lay in his hospital bed. It was a surreal experience. The sterile lights and ceiling tiles passing overhead was exactly like it was depicted on television.
They pushed him back to the ER and told them that he would need to be admitted. They didn=t know what was going on and Lloyd needed to be evaluated. He was freaked out and pissed and scared. Becky had taken Jake to a neighbor=s house for the night so she stayed with Lloyd. He was checked into a room, and they still had no clue what was going on.
At one in the morning a new doctor came in and explained that he had a serious skin infection, that had entered his body through a small cut on the front of his leg. What was weird was that the rash was on the back of his leg and was spreading. The doctor explained that it was cellulitis, which could manifest in two ways, as a staff infection or a strep infection. Staff infections are much more dangerous, and could be possibly deadly, and also harm the heart. They needed to schedule an MRI to determine the severity, and his situation was dire enough that they were doing it as soon as possible, which turned out to be 3 in the morning.
He had never been hospitalized a day in his life and now here he was scared for his own life as his mother lay dying. They didn=t call his sister and father because they had enough to worry about at the moment with Merrill. So, it was just Lloyd and Becky. It was very lonely and scary. He missed Jake, he wanted to be home.
They both remembered how Merrill had cried out Lloyd just two days earlier when he was seemingly healthy and that freaked them out some more. He always felt she had some psychic powers as did many of her friends, so he got scared and wondered how much danger he was in.
Finally, he was wheeled off for the MRI. He had seen the machines before but never knew what they did. He lay down on the machine and was slowly moved into position for the procedure which was scheduled to take 45 minutes.
And it began. The noises that emanated from the machine were otherworldly. Clanging and banging like jack hammers, then it would sound like police sirens blaring, and then back to the jack hammers and for good measure, the sound of what seemed like a metal pot over his head being smacked with a anvil. It was bizarre, but yet strangely hypnotic. His 103 degree fever certainly contributed to one of the strangest experiences of his life.
This must be what a bad acid trip must feel like. BANG BANG CLANG WHIRRRRRRRRR. What the fuck is going on. What the hell is happening to me? My mom is going to die and I am in this fucking contraption. KACHING KACHING WEEE OOOOO WEEE OOO WEEOOOOO. Am I dying? This is a nightmare. My own family doesn=t even know what I am going through. I can=t be there for Mommy!
AWhat the fuckkkkkkkkkkkk!@ he screamed to no one in particular. He also had a moment of clarity where he realized that deep down at his core, that not only was he a baseball player, and Jake=s father, but he was pretty much an atheist. He had no urge to pray, or ask someone to save his mother or himself. He was alone. In that moment of clarity, he actually admired those with faith, as he could see how it brought them comfort in times of great need.
He was wheeled back to his room and they waited for the results. He had never really thought about his mortality and it was daunting. He was 40, he was supposed to have a mid-life crisis, not die. Though to have a mid-life crisis he needed money, and they had none, so that left finding a young woman to bang. But he was a fat-ass now and that would be to
o much of a hassle, to find someone who would put up with his shit like Becky did. Oh, and he also loved her and wouldn=t cheat on her even if he still masturbated like a monkey in heat.
At this point, he was hooked up to four IV=s each loaded with a different medication to attack the infection. They drifted off to sleep and were awakened by another new doctor. The MRI was inconclusive, so they needed to do an ultrasound to determine how deep the rash was. If it was deep in the skin they would have to do surgery to make it stop, possibly removing his calf muscle or at worst his lower leg. It was exceedingly frightening. They were also still worried about his heart, as the infection could infect the blood and travel to the aorta.
They still hadn=t told the rest of his family and at this point, figured they better. They called his parents house and his sister answered. Ellen said she had been trying to reach them all night and started yelling when she heard Lloyd=s voice, angry that he was unreachable especially with Mom=s situation. Ellen started crying and said that the hospice workers said Mom only had a day or so left. He started bawling and couldn=t even get out the fact that he was stuck in the hospital. He apologized before breaking the news to her, as the weight of the world was already on everyone=s shoulders. She started crying again when she heard of his predicament.
It was a convergence from hell. He couldn=t be there with his family as his mother slipped away.. There was no way for him to be discharged. It was a nightmare. For him and his family. He still wasn=t out of the woods and his mother was going to die. His family felt helpless. They couldn=t come visit him, and he knew it. He was distraught. He knew she was terminal, but didn=t think the end was coming so soon. And this, while he was in the hospital for the first time in his life.
Merrill had been delusional, but yet she knew something when she screamed Lloyd=s name two days earlier. It freaked him out. And he didn=t know what his future held. Was he going to lose a leg? Was his heart at risk? And his mom was going to die while he sat there in his hospital bed. He wasn=t ever going to see her again. It was brutal.
Three separate teams of doctors were checking on him and as they tried to get a handle on the situation. One group would say one thing such as he couldn=t eat for another 24 hours, while and then be totally contradicted by another who would say he could eat now if he wanted. Lloyd=s head was spinning.
By midday, the doctors seemed to have things under a modicum of control. The rash was apparently relatively superficial, it was called erysipelas, a mild form of cellulitis, and it was a strep infection, the least dangerous. He was now out of the woods, his heart and leg were fine, but he still would need to be monitored for at least three or four days.
The word spread about his condition and all of his friends checked in. He didn=t have many but they were incredibly special to him. Mike, now married with a child, was the first to stop by. Lloyd had a hard time not breaking down in tears when he saw him. Mike was always so sincere and had always been a remarkable friend. Each year on April Fools Day, Lloyd would tell him to look in the mirror. They were about to celebrate the 20th anniversary of that inglorious event from their past.
Steve came and sat with him for four hours on consecutive days. He was also married and had 5 year old twins and was incredibly successful.
Mark called in from California where he had some success in acting and other ventures. His mother was a nurse who dealt with geriatrics and death, and even though Lloyd hadn=t seen her in over 20 years, she called and consoled him.
Henry was living in Colorado with his wife and two kids, and he was distraught to hear about Merrill. He knew her better than anyone, and he enjoyed her greatly. His father had died suddenly in recent years, so he knew what Lloyd was about to go through.
Many of his coworkers also made a great effort to check up on him, as he had worked there for over 15 years and had made many close friends.
Lloyd felt incredibly sad and proud at the same time. It was sort of like the ending of It=s A Wonderful Life, with all his friends there for him. It was tremendously comforting.
Jake was too scared to visit and Lloyd hadn=t seen him in 48 hours. Lloyd knew it was a hard time for him, what with baybay near death and now his daddy being in the hospital. Lloyd desperately wanted to see him but they spoke on the phone and Lloyd consoled him as much as he could.
The hardest part was ahead of him. Ellen called and said Mom was going fast and she was asking for him. He was going to have to say goodbye to her over the phone. It was time. Becky handed him the phone and he heard slight groaning. It was his mother=s last gasps. But he could tell she was saying ALloyd@. Once again he burst into tears, and as Becky held on to him he poured out his heart to his dying mother.
AI love you, Mom. I love you. You can go peacefully. I am ready. It is ok. We will be ok.@ He was shrieking it while bawling. AYou were the best mother, and made me the man that I am.@ he heard Ellen crying in the background, and then his mother handed the phone to her and groaned.
It was hell on earth. It was the second worst moment of his life. Nothing would ever top the doctor telling him and Becky about their dead child. But it was close. He sagged onto the bed and sobbed uncontrollably. Becky couldn=t console him. She would later say it was the worst thing she ever witnessed in person.
He gathered himself and incrementally started to feel better. He had come to terms with it and was prepared for her imminent demise. He fell asleep and woke up the next morning, which was a Wednesday. He had entered the hospital on Sunday night. No phone call came during the night so she must have made it. A few minutes later the phone rang. She had not. She passed away at five in the morning.
He didn=t cry. He knew it was coming. He realized he had prepared his whole life for this moment. It wasn=t as bad as he had feared. The death of one of his parents had come. And he survived. In truth, he realized he had transferred most of those same fears over to his son. Now that would devastate him. He literally felt that he would kill himself if Jake died. He would not be able to go on from that.
Later that day, his family finally was able to come visit him. It was not a scene of total devastation. Nathan Kulligan had waited on Merrill, hand and foot and was prepared for it. It may also have been a relief. No one wanted to see her suffer anymore. It was totally opposite of how Lloyd had ever pictured it. Everyone was calm and rational. The events of the last 24 hours were almost too overwhelming to comprehend, what with Lloyd in the hospital and Merrill=s fast decline.
Now they had to prepare for the funeral, and when it would be. Lloyd=s health was on the mend, but their was still no timetable on his discharge. To be safe they scheduled the funeral for the following Monday.
It was going to be an unorthodox affair, no pun intended for these agnostic Jews. Lloyd was adamant that he didn=t want some schnor Rabbi who didn=t even know his mother up on the dais pontificating about her life. Lloyd may have been the most radical agnostic, but they were all in agreement on that. They decided his Uncle Steve could do be the Ahost@. He was a defacto family member as it was, and it made everyone happy that he would emcee. Lloyd would give the eulogy, and some of Merrill=s friends would also speak. That is they way they wanted it, and that was the way it would be.
Meanwhile, Lloyd was pining for his son, and he needed to see him. The family left for lunch and Becky promised to try and get Jake to come back with them. A few hours later they returned without Jake in tow. Lloyd started yelling and getting pissed. Literally. He had to urinate in a bottle, so his doctors could monitor it, and in his anger he jumped out of his bed and tripped over one of the bottles which spilled all over the floor. His niece Sophie was there, and she found it the funniest thing she had ever seen.
Lloyd kept ranting about not seeing Jake, and then, surprise! Jake popped into the room. It was a exceedingly happy moment in the midst of sullen gloom. Lloyd new how tough it was for him and was tremendously proud of him. Jake anxiety lessened when he saw his daddy making jokes and acting normal, and could bar
ely stifle his laughter at the knocked over piss bottle.
The doctors were incredibly sympathetic to his plight, as it was almost an unprecedented situation for them to be dealing with a patient who couldn=t be home with his dying mother. One doctor got tears in her eyes when Lloyd relayed his predicament to her. They promised to try and get him out as soon as they could.
In the interim, Lloyd needed to fill his down time, which he did with his writings. He finished his mother=s eulogy and afterwards he needed to cheer himself up, so he wrote some short stories. Religion was foremost on his mind at the moment.
Persecution Complex
Dr. Wiseman: Thank you for coming in today Jesus, your friends and family have been worried sick about you, seeing as that you disappeared for three days.
Jesus: I didn=t disappear. I was sacrificed and reborn.
Dr. Wiseman: Riiigghht. Right. I see. What do you mean by that?
Jesus: Well, you know I am the Son of God and have thousands upon thousands of disciples. They hang on my every word. I can turn water into wine, walk upon waterY
Dr. Wiseman: Pardon me, but that seems rather delusional wouldn=t you say? Have you been diagnosed with bi-polarism or schizophrenia before?
Jesus: Most certainly not, anyhow, I was having dinner with some of my chums and casually announced that I know one of them is going to turn on me andY
Dr. Wiseman: Ah, a megalomaniac and paranoid. Have you been partaking in the fresh mushrooms and merry grasses of Jerusalem?
Jesus: I may have imbibed in the riches of the earth but I don=t see what that has to do with anything.
Dr. Wiseman: Fine, fine. Proceed.
Jesus: So, anyhoo, I know these guys are out to get me, so I serve them some wine and bread, and I am like, eat this, drink this, it is my body and this is my blood, I mean it really wasn=t, I was just making a point. So anyway, douchebag Judas gets this look on his face and says he needs to go to the crapper, can he be excused? Next thing you know I am on trial for blasphemy, which is ironic, because I am the Son of God, you know? So I know that son of a bitch, Iscariot turned my ass in. He was always giving me shit about how he didn=t believe the story about my mom=s immaculate conception. He was like, right, God just happened to pick YOUR mother, Jesus, SHE is the chosen one, sure. And he kept going on about how she probably slept with some vagabond and just didn=t want to get in trouble with her parents and get kicked out of the pogrom. He said his mom said she was going to be sent to Tel Aviv to live with my Aunt Mabel, so she panicked and made up some story about God miraculously impregnating her. I mean, she is pure as myrrh, man, she wouldn=t lie. I AM the frickin son of God, OK? Jesus Christ.
Dr. Wiseman: Do you always refer to yourself in third person? You obviously have some classic Oedipal issues that we will have to deal with down the road, how did you feel growing up without a father figure?
Jesus: Without one? He was with me everywhere I went, he is here now!
Dr. Wiseman: I see. I see. Hmm. I notice you also have some holes in your hands and feet, are you a self-mutilator? Do you hate yourself?
Jesus: Dad dammit, man, come on! They crucified me!
Dr. Wiseman: They did? Can you tell me who THEY are? What kind of things did they say that made you so upset?
Jesus: The Jews. It was the JEWS. Wait, words, what? No, man, they literally crucified me, put me up on the cross, and nailed me there and left me to die. Pffft, I showed them.
Dr. Wiseman: Literally crucified? Are you familiar with the term persecution complex? Because you are the poster boy, if I have ever seen one. Here, let me fill out some prescriptions for you. There is Lithium for the bi-polar, Clozapine, it=s an anti-psychotic for the paranoia, some Effexor for your delusions, and some Xanax, cause you need to chill the fuck out. I would like to see you every week if possible.
Jesus: Uh, yeah, I am going to be ascending into heaven soon so I don=t think that is going to happen.
Dr. Wiseman: Now you are suicidal? I hesitate to do this, but I am going to have to hospitalize you, let me just turn around here and get some paperwork. Okay, now letsY Hey, Jesus where did you go?Y