Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Thoughts on the Death of My Mother

Just sitting and thinking tonight about my beautiful mother, feeling so far from her and trying to wrap my head around the fact that she has been dead for 5 years now.  As I type this, the hour has passed for the last time I saw her. I was out running errands and she called me to remind me she had not given me the money for a fundraiser that Rachel and Amberlea were involved in.  I told her I would run by, and have always believed God knew I needed to be there that night. I had not seen my mom since Sunday, which was Easter. It was now Wednesday night, and I hurriedly stopped in to visit.  I had the girls with me, and Dad was working in the yard. Mom and I chatted, and then I rushed out to get the girls home for bed. I said I love you, and see you later, and off I went. I can see it in my head like it just happened, and considering I LIVE in the house where it all happened, it has replayed in my head many times.  While I don't regret much of anything with my mom, I do regret leaving that night without hugging her.  I have often fought the anger I feel in not knowing that death was staring me in the face, that tragedy and loss were lingering in the air.  I came home, got everyone to bed, and that was the end of my life as I knew it. 

I woke shortly before 3am to the phone ringing. I nearly broke my neck getting to the kitchen to answer it.  A million things ran through my mind as to why the phone was ringing.  My brother was on the other end, telling me that Mom woke Dad up and now she isn't breathing. I took that to mean that she had woken him up and was now having trouble. He did say that the paramedics were there and had been working on her for almost a half an hour. I said I would be right there and raced in to get dressed.  I was shaking violently, and Brian was saying to calm down. I brushed my teeth.

Yes.

I brushed my freaking teeth. How do I remember? Because I rammed the toothbrush up into my teeth and bruised my gums, and it hurt for like a week.

What the heck?  I have no clue, other than my head was seriously thinking I was leaving the house and going to be heading to the hospital to stay for a while.  As I rounded the corner to head down the steps, I stumbled and nearly took a dive down the steps. Again, Brian was asking me if I was ok, and I remember telling him I would call him, and that I didn't know what to expect, but that we might end up in St. Joe or KC. It never crossed my mind that she was dead.

Never.

I sped from my house to my parents. I didn't care if the cops stopped me or not. I raced up Walnut Street and pulled in the driveway to find no ambulance.  I jumped out of the van and Erin said she would drive us.  I got back in and it was a barrage of questions, what was happening, come on let's hurry.  I know she was talking, but I didn't hear anything. I think that Jacob was driving Erin's van. We all pulled in the hospital parking lot, and I jumped out and sprinted towards the front door. My heart was racing, and as I got closer, I realized that I was alone. I looked over my shoulder and Jacob, Dad and Erin were just walking slowly across the parking lot arm in arm.  I felt desperate. Come on! Jacob was shaking his head, and Dad said something about how long they had been working on her. 

Then I saw through the heavy weight of terror, and I knew. The next 30 minutes were a complete blurr. We could not get ahold of Karis, as her husband worked nights and she wasn't answering her phone. Since she lived out towards Conception at the time, we called the sheriff to go notify her. It was awful, and I can only imagine how terrible that was for her.

Finally, the nurse came to the door. My immediate thought was, well she must be stable because they didn't have to work on her very long. Then I could see her face. She is someone our family knows, and she looked so incredibly sad as she told us there was nothing they could do.  I remember thinking what a crappy job she has to get stuck being the one to go tell the family. I could hear this awful screaming, and suddenly realized it was me. I could hear myself, but could not stop. The betrayal I felt from a God I had previously felt so close to was undescribable, and has never fully healed.  We were in a small window of time that there was no sign of Brian's cancer, and it was as if I deserved this pain. 

I lost my innocence that day. From then on, anything was possible. Any tragedy, sadness, pain, I was not immune.  I stood in the ER and stared at my mom, the woman I had seen just 6 hours before, full of love and life, now cold and lifeless.

Since then, I get the feeling every once in a while, sometimes more often than others, that I want my mommy...that kindergarten feeling that all you want is your mom, maybe not for any reason other than it feels good.  I want to go back and hug her, to tell her again and again what a great mother she was.  And losing her was not an isolated incident...it is a series of subsequent losses....each lost grandparents day, missing Jacob's wedding, the births of Isaiah and Luke, even little things like Rachel's first boyfriend, or hearing Amberlea play the bells, seeing Tye play baseball, or Rachel graduate from 8th grade, or even having to endure the loss of Brian without her support.

I often wonder what she would think of how life is now, without her. I think she would be very happy that I live in her house, the house that she and dad were so very excited about planning and building.  I know some things would probably make her sad too.

I was thinking today how quickly the 5 years have gone. In 5 more years, Rachel will be finishing her freshman year in college, Amberlea will be 16 and Tye will be in 6th grade. Time just ticks away.

It felt good to get it all down, and to reflect on what has happened.  I am exhausted and headed to sleep, although I am camping out on the couch tonight. Since I now own my parents' house, I'm just not sure I feel up to spending the night in the room where my mom died. Not tonight anyway.

1 comment:

Danielle said...

Oh Jenni.... I am crying.

I'm going to hug my mom extra tight this weekend and work at appreciating her. When you speak of missing her, an almost kindergarten longing... my mom has spoken of that in relation to her own mom.

God this post made me sad.