Page 31 - Contrast1993Fall

named her "Ms. Hummingbird" after the kind nursing figure 1had
learned about in second-grade class (I didn't realize that 1meant to
refer to the generous and lionhearted soul of Florence Nightingale,
but at least "hummingbird" was a type of bird).

My mother only became sicker as time passed. It was a Thursday
afternoon when 1 came home and found my mother screaming
uncontrollably. 1ran back to school only two blocks away and called
for Florence. Ifound her still in the nursing suite typing and told her
to come quickly to the apartment. Out of breath, I grumbled
something cryptic like, "Mother ... screaming. Help me!" We both
ran back home as fast as we could. Florence called "911" while 1sat
b.ymother's side, not knowing how to act, just crying and laughing
sImultaneously.

The ambulance came to take my mother to the hospital. 1 was
transported on the ambulance, too. The sound of the relentless sirens
whirled around in my head as the vehicle shifted and swerved
through the busy streets of D.C. That night, my mother died (1was
told ~he died of AIDS a few years later). It was that night in the
hospItal that Ifinally realized why my mother always wanted me to
look at her: she was preparing me for her inevitable d~ath th~ only
~ay she knew how. Her image has and always will be firmly
Ingrained in my mind.

29