My mom.

It's been almost 5 years since she died. Suddenly. Out of the blue.

I'm not dealing with it well. It still feels like yesterday, really. I can still see her body lying on the floor, face down in a pool of her own blood. She must have been standing and fell over when her heart gave out, right onto her face. I think she broke her nose. I hope she wasn't conscious for that pain. I hope she wasn't in any pain at all.

But to know that she died in the next room. That's the hardest part. Maybe I could have done something if I wasn't such a heavy sleeper. If I left the door to my room open I could have heard her fall. Did she scream for help? Did she die all alone, knowing that her children were in the same house but not coming to her aid, still asleep? I could have called 911 and an ambulance could have come with the tools to revive her. It didn't have to be her time to go.

I went to bed that night with a mother and woke up without one. We had paella for dinner. She asked me how school was. I watched Tom Green's web cast. I went to bed later than I should have.

At 7am I woke up to my brother's nagging. He told me my mother was sleeping on the floor. I wasn't sure what he meant. But my brother was the one who found her. I looked in the room where she slept and saw her face down, lying on the floor. It was very unusual. I remember the fear I had that something bad happened. I had to check to see if she was still alive. When I saw the blood I knew. I felt that ghastly feeling of death being so near. I yelled at her to wake up. I screamed at her to get off the floor. I said a silent prayer. I never prayed so hard in my life. I didn't see any signs of breathing. No up and down motion. No snoring. She snored very loudly when she slept.

I can still remember the color of her lifeless feet, the blood pooling with gravity of a heart that stopped beating and sending oxygen filled, life-giving blood circulating through her body just a few hours before. I called 911. I told them my mother wasn't breathing. That I woke up and found her on the floor. It took forever and a split second for the ambulance to come, along with police. The emergency service people started working on her. Giving her oxygen and electric shocks. I remember the female paramedic telling me it was going to be okay. I wasn't sure what she meant. What was going to be okay? It turned out that she didn't mean my mom was going to be okay. I understand that now. She meant that me and my brother would be able to get through this loss.

We rode to the hospital in the back of a police car. They always send police when there's a "not breathing" call. We sat in the hospital, waiting. I don't know how I got to the waiting room. It's all a blur. I remember the team of doctors coming into the waiting room. "She didn't make it." How many times had I seen this on TV? I thanked them for trying to save my mommy. I was in too much shock to start losing it. I called my best friend. She didn't answer. She was still asleep, like I would have been. I called another close friend. I told her my mom just died. I had to tell someone. I used my dead mom's ATM card to get money for a taxi home. It was then when I started crying. I've stopped crying on the outside. Not a day goes by that I don't cry on the inside.

I don't know how I'm going to function that day, the anniversary. I don't know why I put so much emphasis on the anniversary of her death. She's still going to be dead the day before and the day after.

Luckily I don't have class that day. Hopefully I will be able to score that day and just numb out. I can't deal. I know I should get therapy and I've tried before but I wasn't ready to talk about it... I am still not ready. I miss her so much. She died at a very bad point in our relationship. Sometimes I feel like I killed her. Not literally of course but figuratively. Even though I also intellectually know she was in poor health and her drinking made it worse.

 

It's our nature to note anniversaries. It's one of the many ways that we add order to the world, as well as keep memories alive. A bit more of a pain than it's worth, more often than not, but it's how we're socialized.

I'm so sorry to hear your loss, but if I may say so: you told the story very well. All I can say is that you did not kill her, figuratively or otherwise. She loved you dearly, and while things may not have been the best between you, I'm sure that underneath the surface conflict there was nothing but love for you in her heart, as there is nothing but love for her in your heart. I nearly lost my mother about 6 or 7 years ago (time becomes a blur...); in my case it was a long illness that suddenly turned worse, but even having her come within an inch of death was traumatic. I couldn't imagine the pain of finding my mother on the floor like that.

Much strength to you, on this sad anniversary.

 

dave has some wise words. all i can add is that people deal with death in their own way, there is no one "right" way to handle it.

 

Rabidrabbit,
I am a mom, on the other side of this equation. I found my son's body and so, when you wrote of finding your mom's, I felt a literal shiver of recognition. I am so sorry that you had to experience that. I remember the paradox of that moment---the absolute surreal unreality of it, and at the exact same time, the horrible indisputable finality of it. Dave is right that you write very well and I hope you continue to write a lot because it really helps. It is both natural and unavoidable to feel guilt when someone we love in that primal way (mother/child) dies but even more so when we are in conflict when it happens. Conflict is a natural part of every parent-child relationship.I always knew that my children loved me even when they were angry. Your mother knew that,too;I guarantee that. The important thing is to remember that your mother had her own path, just as my son had his, and you and I have ours. Our paths include learning to walk with deep sadness without shutting down. There is nothing wrong with a mindful immersion in your feelings when the anniversary occurs--in fact it may be healing. Take care and if you ever feel the need to PM me, please do.

 

all i can say is i can agree with all that these other people have said. its not your fault and i cant even image being in your shoes. if i lost my father i dont know what id do. sorry for ur loss and good luck with these difficult times..