Two Weeks

It’s been two weeks tonight that my mom died quietly, painlessly, and very suddenly at home.  I got the call from my dad at approximately 11:09 p.m.  I thought I was being sleep dialed accidentally, and when I heard my dad struggle to find words, I thought maybe he’d woken from a dream and was being very sentimental.

Earlier that night, he had texted me to tell me how much he loved me, something sweet that happens occasionally.  But then he delivered the incredibly unexpected news and began a chain of events that have already begun redefining who I identify myself to be.

I had my moment to freak out, called my husband so I could center myself, called my best friend to watch our baby so I could go figure out what to do.  It was very interesting that with everything mom taught me how to do, she never taught me how to deal with the death of any of our family members, because there hasn’t been a lot of death around us.

I think it’s very interesting how calm you can become when it feels like it’s your responsibility to do so.  Being the oldest of the three of us, my role definitely felt more like the protector and the person who needed to not only have it together, but keep it together.  Somebody needed to take notes, make decisions, remember facts from the coroner and the funeral home and whatever else there was to do.  It automatically felt like my responsibility, which is not a complaint, just how it felt.

I wasn’t sure if I could handle seeing mom.  I had this terrible vision of her in pain, sad looking, hunched over or hurt.  I didn’t have any details about how she died, and we still only speculate that it was a brain aneurysm.  I was very afraid that my mind would picture her correctly and I’d never be able to un-see a tragic, terrible, scene.  But, how thankful I was that I did see her.  I was distraught, and I’ll never forget my husband holding on to me as we knelt down beside her, but I was so at peace.  She looked beautiful, peaceful, relaxed.  She looked like she just laid down and fell asleep, and I was so thankful for that reassurance.  Instead of being something I was scared I couldn’t un-see, it is something I hope I will never forget.

I’ve learned, observed, and realized a lot of things since then.  Many things I’d like to share here, but for this post, I will leave these memories here and build from them.

If you’re a guest and you found this post in a search, I don’t know how much help I can offer you by way of one on one discussion, but I hope over the next several weeks, months, and years, I can provide you some words of encouragement.

 

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