Last Month.

I've been through a lot in the past few years. I told myself this was the year that was going to finally be better.

Two days into the year, I was proved wrong. My mother was put into the hospital, where she died less than twenty-four hours later.

 

The first time I saw her in the hospital, she had her eyes open but they were glazed over, so she couldn't see me. As I talked to her and told her I loved her and she had to get better, her eyes were trying to find me.. They were searching, I could tell... But she couldn't see me. I don't remember word for word what I said that night, but I know she heard me.

I stayed there almost all night. I went home for three hours to shower and then came back at six in the morning, without sleep. During that period of time, I had a panic attack out of the blue. It was my first panic attack that I recognized.

When I got to the hospital, it was still a few hours until the next visiting time. We saw her at the 9:30 time. She wasn't responsive, but I talked to her anyway. I held her hand. It was the last time I saw her face alive.



About 10 or 11, they told us she didn't have long. They told us she was probably going to die any moment. There was nothing they could do. They said only a miracle could save her.

I cried more than I ever had in one day on that day. I went to the bathroom multiple times. It was my safe place- a place where people couldn't openly see me crying. I prayed. Over and over.

I stayed in the waiting room for over an hour, wondering, waiting. Wondering if she was gone yet.. If I was breathing in the very same building when she was not. Wondering when her last breath was.. or was going to be. Waiting to see her again.

The next visitation was at twelve. We went with everyone else. When a person emptying the trash accidentally opened the door to the ICU, the visitors starting walking in. The nurses turned them back. I looked at my mom's room. The curtain was pulled. That could only mean one thing.



They told us it'd be a couple hours before they could get her cleaned up. I waited.

January 3 marks the first day I saw my mother dead. And the last day I saw her alive.

 

The first two weeks I cried nonstop. I didn't want to see anyone.

Then I just became numb. I still am. Sometimes I feel in bits and pieces but for the most part, I can't feel at all.

I wish I could.

wakeofbeauty wakeofbeauty
18-21, F
1 Response Feb 11, 2010

Your story brought tears to my eyes. It has been seven years since my mom died.. on mother's day morning just a few weeks before my wedding. Today, I feel like I did the day she died..completely numb, tears streaming without a sound, a tightness from my check to my stomach, and an unexplainable lonely and angry hole that somehow can never be filled. Your not alone. I miss my mother every day.