Mitigation by Sawyer Bennett Page A

recall telling Macy to call the office for me.”
    “Well, I
called Macy back to get more details. She was beside herself fretting
about you. Said you hadn’t called her, and you weren’t
returning her calls. She wasn’t sure whether to get on a plane
to fly to be by your side or not, but then she said you sort of told
her you didn’t want her there, so she didn’t want to
intrude. I’m telling you… she was a mess.”
    Guilt courses
through me for doing that to Macy, and honestly… I don’t
even remember doing that. I think I was operating in a state of
shock. I make a note to call her as soon as I finish eating
something.
    Matt continues.
“Anyway, I decided to take the worrying away from Macy and told
her I would fly down here to help you out. I made a quick stop at
home to pack a small bag, and here I am.”
    “Thank you for
coming,” I say in a small voice. “You really didn’t
have to.”
    “I know,”
is all he says, and then the subject is closed.
    Matt walks me
through the line but nothing looks good to me, so he proceeds to fill
my tray up with a variety of items. After he pays, we find a seat and
he points at the food. “Eat.”
    “You always
have to be in control, don’t you?” I grumble, even as I
pick my fork up and take a small bite of mac and cheese.
    Damn, that’s
good.
    Matt just gives me a
knowing smile and watches me while I eat. If I look like I’m
ready to slow down, he points at the food and that’s all he has
to do to urge me to eat. When I’m done to Matt’s
satisfaction, I push the tray off to the side and lean back in my
chair. I’m exhausted, and I scrub my hands over my face in an
attempt to revive myself.
    Finally, I focus on
Matt, who is patiently waiting for me to talk… if I want to.

“I don’t
know what to do,” is the first thing I say to him.
    He gazes at me in
understanding and sympathy. “Tell me what’s going on, and
we’ll talk it out.”
    I inhale deeply,
sucking all the oxygen in that I can hold. After slowly letting it
out, I tell him, “The doctor is going to come by tonight and
talk to me in more detail about her condition, but from what they’ve
told me so far, she isn’t going to recover. She has minimal
brain activity… The machines are keeping her alive right now.
I think tonight… I think he wants to talk to me about taking
her off life support.”
    “Did your mom
have a Living Will or any other health care directive?”
    I knew this question
would be coming from Matt—he’s a lawyer after all—but
it’s like a sharp slap in the face when it comes. Tears well up
in my eyes, and I shake my head in the negative.
    “I’m so
stupid,” I say vehemently. “I’m a fucking lawyer,
and I never thought to have my mom do one.”
    Reaching across the
table, Matt takes my hands and attempts to soothe me by rubbing them
gently with his own. “Don’t do that to yourself. It has
no purpose here to dwell on those things.”
    Pulling my lower lip
between my teeth, I bite down hard to feel some type of physical pain
that will force the emotional tears back. It works and, with a few
blinks, the wetness dissipates.
    “Did you and
your mom ever talk about this?” Matt asks.
    “No,” I
say miserably, staring at the Formica table in front of me. “Not
even when my dad died. He had a heart attack. It was so quick…
We never thought about something like this happening. I never thought
I’d have to make these decisions.”
    Matt’s quiet
for a moment, and then he says, “Okay… let’s
figure out what your mom would want then. Tell me about her?”
    A slow smile creeps
onto my face, and I raise my eyes to Matt’s. I know what he’s
doing, and it’s brilliant. He wants to make me focus on the
type of person my mom is… I mean really focus, so that
I could determine what her inherent wishes may be.
    “She’s
energetic… always on the go. She works full time, but in her
spare time, I don’t think she sleeps. She’s always been
so active