I haven’t updated in a long time, and I’m barely able to update right now.
On January 2nd, at approximately two in the afternoon, I received a facebook message from my Aunt, saying that my sister (she didn’t have my new phone number) needed me to call her ASAP.
I thought perhaps my mother had to make another trip to the ER, as she had been having issues with her COPD. She had been to the ER two days in a row, in fact, just earlier that morning (I say morning as it was just about midnight my time, and I am two hours ahead of them) my mom messaged me to explain that she wanted to let me know she was discharged from the ER once again, exacerbation of COPD, that she was having trouble breathing (why she went in.).
I made a joke. I said we all had plague here, and nobody could breathe.
So at approximately two in the afternoon, I look up at my boyfriend, and I said, “I wonder what the fuck this is about,” or something of that nature.
Side note: the entire day before, I felt ominous. I felt something bad would happen. I thought it would be related to a financial thing (bills bills bills). I even woke up with a horrific panic attack at approximately 6 a.m. that morning, thinking “Something bad is going to happen. I just know it.” I couldn’t breathe, I was sweaty and my heart was racing.
I dial my sister’s number, and it begins to ring.
She picks up on the second ring, “Jay?” (Obviously not my real name. She says my real name.)
“Yeah,” I reply. “What the hell is going on now?”
Two words. Forever etched in my mind.
I could tell her through her voice that there was nothing else to add. Not “to the hospital and it’s bad” or “to the store and she fell and is really hurt,” no.
The most unexpected words that have ever hit my ears.
“What,” I cried out, causing everybody to come into the room I was in. “What do you mean she’s gone? WHAT HAPPENED?”
“I don’t know, I found her this morning–”
“Me and [my sixteen-year-old nephew] found her this morning. Jay, I have to go, the EMS and officers are still here, I will call you back.”
And with that, my world crashed. I hung up the phone, and looked up into my boyfriend’s eyes, just as my ex-husband, who is still very close to the family, and is good friends with my boyfriend, appeared in the doorway.
I screamed, “MOM DIED. OH MY GOD MY MOM DIED. SHES GONE. I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!”
And for the next few hours, I cried in everybody’s arms. I cried sitting in my ex-husbands doorway, asking him, “What am I supposed to be doing?”
“Just what you’re doing right now.”
My sister eventually called me back, and unfortunately for me, and much to the dismay of my boyfriend and ex-husband, told me just how she was found, and likely what happened. It wasn’t peaceful, and that tears my soul apart. I went from thinking she had died in her sleep, to.. that. (No, it wasn’t a suicide or murder.)
So since January second, I have been in a deep state of mourning. Had I have had some warning like with my grandparents (calling hospice in is a pretty good warning. It gets you ready for the inevitable.), I don’t think this would be as bad.
My mother had spoken of what to do should she pass, and she didn’t want services, and only wanted to be cremated with a ring her father gave her, and we are doing just that, but I don’t think she would want to be carried around in a tin.
I am seriously angry with God, and have meant to go to a priest. It’s not fair. I wasn’t supposed to lose my mom yet. I was supposed to have her for another ten years at least. She was only sixty. I was supposed to have her as Sofia and me as Dorothy. That was supposed to happen, but God, in his infinite fucking wisdom, decided to take her from us without warning, and in a terrible way.
I’ve been trying to pull myself out of this depression, but I’m not sure how well it’s working. Some days I think I am okay, other days, like yesterday, certain songs would come on youtube and shatter me all over again.
“Don’t Fear the Reaper”
That song got me.
“Down to the river to pray,” and “I’ll fly away” got me.
And then “Into the West” by Annie Lennox sent me to the bathroom for twenty minutes.
I still don’t know what to do. It’s weird, because if I start to smile or enjoy something, in the back of my head, my own voice says, “Jay, your mother just died. How dare you sit there and play Red Dead Redemption? You’re a fucking monster.”
Despite my best efforts, I don’t think I’ll pull out of this for a while.
In any case, that’s my update. It’s not a good one. All new books (Did I mention I published a short romance called Alive Inside? If I didn’t, it’s on Amazon. Look it up.) are on a bit of a hiatus at this point.
I’m sure eventually I’ll be fine, but it’s going to be a while.
Rest in peace, Mom. I love you, and I hope you and your mother had a great reunion. Tell Gran and Pop hi for me.