February 17, 2022. That's the day my world stood still. It's 8:35 pm. I just lost my mom to cancer. The snow silently fell, my family cried. My world just shattered and even with my husband holding me close I felt like everything was at a stand still. I can't breathe and I just want to run. The nurses have been notified that mom died. We're waiting for the Dr. to come in and officially pronounce her dead. It's going to take a while, because saving a life is more important than confiming you lost a life. We were told we could say our final goodbyes and leave, yet that just doesn't feel right. She didn't want to die here. She wanted to come home. How can we just leave her here?
We stay a little longer and then make our way home. It's been snowing all day, the weather is horrible. The night is completely silent except for the crunch of the snow beneath our feet with every step we take back to the car. It's so cold, but somehow the snowflakes hitting my tear stained face brings me some king of peace. The icy air hitting my post covid lungs stings. Sean and I sit in silence on the way home. I'm left with questions and my own racing thoughts now while tears silently pour down my face. Why you? Why now? What do I do now? What do I do next? How do I plan a funeral? We just found out you don't have life insurance so how do I PAY for a funeral? What funeral home do we take you to? Well, at least you answered that one for us. Every week on our drive to the hospital for various tests and treatments we would pass by a funeral home on Woodward Avenue. One we have never stepped foot in. One we knew nothing about. You would look at me and say " I want to go there." Then we would joke about not getting the family discount at the funeral home all of our other family members have been put to rest at. There's no explanation for it, but that's what you picked. So that's where we went.
Rich paid for your funeral. Bobbie and the kids drove up. Everyone came over and together we put together photo boards and reminisced about the past. Trying so hard to focus on the good memories and forget the bad. I'm exhausted both mentally and physically, the house is a wreck but the memory boards are beautiful. Lucy helped and she did such a great job.
I don't want to be here. The memory boards are placed, people sent flowers, some brought food and there you are, at the front of the room on display for the world to see. You look peaceful, but I hate the way they did your makeup, your lipstick is smudged. I hate the way they painted your nails because you would have hated that color and I hate that your body is so thin and frail that they stuffed your shirt to make it fit. I hope you like the one I picked our for you. You always looked so nice in that color blue.
Funerals are weird. There's so many people that come crawling out of the cracks when someone dies. People I haven't seen in years. Some I barely remember and others I wish wouldn't have shown up, yet here we are. So I put on a brave face, fake a smile, hug some people and tell them I'm okay. It's all a lie though. You had been sick for a long time, so this isn't a surprise for most people. I had been mentally preparing myself for this for a long time. Just as I did with Pa, Granny, Aunt Kimmy, Aunt Cindy and Sean's mom. It didn't work this time though. It's like a car accident, I prepared myself, I tried to swerve, I braced for impact and I still got hurt. I feel as if I've been run over. Does the pain ever end?
Dad's here and even though he's been your husband for 32 years, I want to punch him in the face every time I look at him. Every time he walks to your casket I want to scream. Don't pretend to be the doting husband now! I want to tell the world how much of a shit human being he is, but I don't. I bite my tongue and walk away as tears fill my eyes. He's been cheating on you with that bitch down stairs and I feel like he doesn't deserve to be here. He's left you alone during your weakest moments to go spend time with his girlfriend. He came to the hospital to say his good byes, but didn't bother to stay until you were gone. Him and I are barely talking but today I'm being civil. Today is not the day for me to tell this man off.
We make it through the all day visitation and the very weird and awkward funeral service at the end. Seriously, what the fuck was that? Everyone is hugging me. So many people are saying their final good bye to you and I watch as the funeral director carefully closes your casket. That's it. It's over. That is the last time I will ever see your beautiful face.
Everyone leaves. Bobbie and the kids are on the road back home because her boss is a two faced piece of shit. I'm sad they had to leave. We pack up what's left of the food and drinks the memory boards , our belongings and fill the car. Livs in her carseat and we're headed to a post funeral dinner at Olive Garden. We're all starving and I need a drink. Liv stole my breadstick and she's teething on it. All I can think about is how much you would have loved to see that.
I'm exhausted from the events of the last week but most of all, I just feel numb. I don't know how to do life without you momma.
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