Mommy's Room-Personal Narrative

As soon as my eyes woke up to the bitter cold of the night and stars covered by black blanket of clouds, I knew that this was it. I had tried to prepare myself that day, but I was at school when it happened. The moment the intercom came over the classroom, “Hailey Wooldridge needs to come the office, her mom is here to check her out,” my heart stopped. I was able to make it to the office without losing my composure, but as soon as my eyes met my mom standing there with tears in hers I lost it. Right there standing in the school office, the food gates of heaven opened up in my eyes and I could not stop the rivers from flowing. My best friend since kindergarten had died. All the planning of moving in together when we went to college was down the drain. The late nights of watching horribly filmed scary movies was done. My heart was broken, and the pieces are still not taped together properly. Two days later was her funeral. Her mother had asked me to say a couple of words about her during the service, but the thought of standing next to her lifeless body talking about her and not to her made everything seem surreal. By the power of prayer and numerous amounts of tears, I stood up from my seat and walked lifelessly to the podium that viewed hundreds of people waiting to see what I had to say. I do not know how I got through that speech without hysterically crying, but somehow, I talked like I was having a conversation with Serra once again. In front of me, I

An ambulance came and carried out my mom. I didn’t know what was going on, so many questions running through my mind, what was wrong with her, was she going to be ok. I was scared, more scared then I had ever been. My sister Sheridan who was 8 asked me “what’s happening?” through tears. On that day a little piece of me began to change because if I let her see my fear that would not help anyone, and so even though I didn’t know what was happening I responded “everything is going to be ok” even though I did not trust my own words.

A Journey in Grief: A Mothers Experience Following the Death of her Daughter by Alice W. Terry describes how the loss of someone so dear to you is unimaginable. When I was thirteen I lost my grandmother. She had been sick for a long time; I remember going to visit her in the hospital many times before she passed. The death of my grandmother was my first and only personal experience with the loss of a family member. Although this reality makes it hard for me to relate to this article at a personal level, I am truly grateful for the health and well being of those closest to me. Only being thirteen at this time, I was old enough to comprehend what had happened but I had not been old enough to truly experience the sorrow of losing someone. When I lost my grandmother, all I remember doing is crying. Although I was expressing emotion and grieving her loss, I do not remember having a conversation about what happened. How was I feeling? What is going through my head? Looking back now, it is frustrating to accept the fact that no one truly knew how to comfort me.

I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.

He thanked all of the nurses and doctors even though half of them did not help him with his problem in the hospital. Eventually, we reached the entrance of the hospital and soon enough his ride had arrived. He pointed out that the man in the car was his only son and he said to me, “In the future, if you ever have a child, cherish every last moment with him or her because you never know when you won’t see them again.” After he said this, he told me to lean over and give him a hug, and I did exactly what he told me. I was completely torn apart about how kind this man was and how wise he is to this day. As I hugged him, he whispered to my ear, “I will see you again another day either on this world or in the world we have not yet experienced yet with the Lord.” Travon, his father, and the elderly man all drove away, and I turned back trying to keep myself from

They swarmed around me. The tears felt like fire. I heard worried, faint murmurs. “she's not going to make it”, and they're reassuring my crying, helpless parents, “she's going to be alright”. Even though I was so young, I thought that this was it. The fear. The pain. The sorrow. The memories still haunt me to this day.

Finally, the nurse came and allowed us entrance to one of our worst nightmares. There the whole family stood with the understanding that they were taking the ventilator off and this could be the last time we would ever see this amazing woman. Each grandchild took their time getting one last hug and saying goodbye. I stood waiting my turn thinking how could I ever possibly whisper into words the gratitude and admiration I had for this wonderful woman. The whole room was on edge trying to be strong for each other. Eventually it was my Aunt Julia’s turn. As she stood there holding my grandmother’s hand crying saying, “Momma, it’s your little girl, please wake up, I know you can do it, you’re strong enough”. I thought my heart would explode. Then, as my dad, the strongest man I know, went over to pull her away from the bedside he began to sob as well. This was almost unbearable to witness without making a scene. I gazed out the window with a desire to be anywhere but in that horribly bleak room facing this unimaginable tragedy with my family that was full of life and laughter. When my Aunt Julia finally was composed once again and acknowledged once again that this was God’s will she said fo the last time, “It’s okay, I understand you are tired. I love you”. The whole room seemed to begin to spin and true mourning was awaken in my soul for this amazingly wonderful woman that held such a

When I saw my aunt and uncle walk into the waiting room, fresh tear stains streaked upon their cheeks, I knew. When my uncle opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out but a child like squeal, my heart was torn in half. When someone finally said the words ‘she’s gone’ to the family members that had just arrived, getting my extremities cut off of my body one by one would have most certainly hurt less. I shut down and sat in that too clean smelling hospital room, little by little people began to say their good-byes to each other and leave, while I just sat. My grandpa walked in and I looked up at the red neon clock on the wall to see that a hour had passed. Without saying a word, he motioned and walked with me out of the room to the end of the hallway where my sister and cousin were sitting. The corner where the four of us sat, you could look out the windows into a sea of city

Silence spreads through the room. We all knew what had happened, but it feels different hearing it from her. It was her life, her experience, her husband. Despite hearing the same story as everyone else, I still feel as if I am missing pieces and know less than everyone else. She chokes back tears and as she continues to speak, I can see her struggle to hold herself together.

I held my siblings hands, and my mother’s as I was crying my last tears. I heard a voice, from my mother, “Sweet child, never, look at this moment as a disaster, look at it as a” Her voice died out. I hugged her with all my might and cried at the same time. I could see them all smiling, as if they were in a better place now.

I sat in my silent grief and awaited the start of the funeral service. I struggled to hold back the grief; tears flew steadily and silently down my immobile face. I felt bruised inside, numbness, emptiness, as I walked behind dad’s coffin. Although he is gone already, my soul unwilling wants to acknowledge the finality of death, thinking about how I will never be able to look upon his face again, see the warmth in his eyes,

The thought of death and my grandfather colliding with each other had troubled and depressed me. All of us were rolling through life just fine. Then, I was stunned that the ball might stop rolling for him. His life took a very sharp turn and all of ours had done so too. My day had been perfectly well until my happiness went to an utter discontinuation. My mother had received the call. His heart was immensely affecting him.

My mother arrived home in tears that evening, this is when I finally let go of what strength I had left; and I cried with her.

“I… also lost my sister.” I felt shock entering my face, whether it registers on the outside or not. My Aunt Lily and I were both put in the same room. We were both trapped in the same walls of the situation, thoughts, and feelings, yet I had been unknowing of her presence in it until now. Now she was by side, offering comfort, whether I deserved it or not, for she is

This story lets me know that I need not to wallow in my sorrow but believe that God will provide. Moreover, I believe that I must work toward a better life instead of being content in my current state. If I allow tradition to keep me down, then I am allowing myself to miss out on God’s blessings,