Aches

I fucking head aches. My mouth aches. My jaws ache (and not even for a good reason) and my spirit aches.

Last night, I came home, changed into my house clothes and began cooking just like every other night. While texting Crack, I finished up cooking a large pot of spaghetti with wheat noodles. Just like every other night, I grabbed two plastic containers out of my cabinet and filled them up with dinner for the same two people, Ms. Gloria and Shelton. Just like every night, I put the kid in the car and walked up one building to 3605, knocked on unit B. No answer. Knock again... Ms. Gloria's niece, Sharon opened the door, looking like she just had the best high she's ever had in her life.

Me: Hello, is Ms. Gloria around?
Her: No, she went to the hospital this morning.
Me: Oh, OK. Is she alright?
Her: I don't know. She was having a heart attack and the ambulamps [ambulance] took her to the hospital.
Me: OK- do you know what hospital she went to?
Her: No. Probably Good Samaritan or Union Memorial

She closes the door and I'm just standing there confused... shocked... hurt. I'm reminded of November 7th when my father passed away from a heart attack just a few blocks away from here. I remembered walking into Union Memorial almost 3 years ago knowing that I would have to identify my fathers body. Something told me that something wasnt right and I would never see Ms. Gloria again.

I made up my mind to check on her this morning after I came back from the dentist. After leaving the dentist with 2 less wisdom teeth, I stopped home to get my credit card and saw a few neighbors standing outside near 3605. One of the women called out to me. I can never remember her name i just always know her as the woman with no edges. I walk over and she tells me that Ms. Gloria died yesterday morning from a heart attack.

The rest of my body matched the numbness of my jaw as I walked back to my car and cried. I didn't know anything about this woman that I cooked for every night for the last month or so. I met her when my property manager and I was doing walk-throughs for the contractors. I had heard that an elderly woman lived in the basement unit of 3605 and didn't have any family to look out for her except for a niece who, apparently, had a very bad drug habit.

When she opened the door, she was wearing a long nightgown and had her grey hair pulled into a bun. We went to her kitchen to measure cabinets and she didn't have anything but a few canned vegetables and juice. From that day on, I always knocked on her door and gave her a plastic container of whatever I cooked that night. She always said "thank you, missy." as she handed me the cleaned container from the night before.

Today I found out more about the 72 year old woman who loved my baked fish and told me that adding Old Bay to my greens would make them taste better. I was told by another long-term resident that Ms. Gloria was a widow. Her husband and only child died in a car accident in 1974. She had one sister who passed in 1980. She was a college graduate, a teacher, she always paid her rent on time and had no known family other than her niece.

Even though i didn't know her that well, I still felt a connection to this woman. I know that she is in a better place with better company so the ache in my heart is gone. Now the two holes in the back of my mouth... that's another story.