Personal Narrative: My Mother's Death

I remember the day like the back of my hand. The day my own husband took a knife

Mom had always been the provider of the family. She worked at a failing elementary school as a reading recovery specialist. She didn't care so much about the money as much as she cared about her school kids. She was a very loving person who wanted her school kids and her actual kids to succeed in life. Mom was 5’2 and weighed one hundred and two pounds, she also had short brown hair. Her eyes were the color of the sky. Your mother cared so much about you in particular because you were the oldest and hoped that you’d go off to college and travel the world. Your father, on the other hand, was nothing to look at. He stood at 5 feet and weighed one hundred fifty pounds. He was bald, sunburnt, reeked of pot and lone star beer. He was in the military

Remember when I was 7, because I do. I remember how when I asked you if Dad would be okay, you said to not worry because he would be fine. You lied. He’s now six feet underground with your name written in red on his coffin. Dirt lines my memories of how when he got lowered into the ground you didn’t cry, you stood looking at the man that helped plan the funeral. Not even five seconds after Father was gone, were you looking for your next victim. I will not help you anymore, the business will not be passed down to me and I will not participate in the same game that killed Dad.

The topic of my mom’s cancer causes a crack in my voice and tears to develop in my eyes. Naturally, I would want to avoid the subject at all costs, especially in front of a large group. When my friend approached me about a Grief Camp she needed help with, I was hesitant to agree. She explained that we would be teaching music therapy to kids who have recently lost someone. It would entail me talking about my personal story, and helping kids handle their grief. After considering whether I should enlist in the camp, I realised that it would be completely hypocritical for me to volunteer with every other societal issue, and not the one that affected me the most.

April 6, 1997, twenty years ago our family lives was drastically changed, with the death of my husband, father of my children. Mike was only forty-two years’ old when he passed away from a heart attack. Mike went to the hospital complaining of chest pains; he was observed in the hospital overnight, and some tests were taken of his heart. He was released from the hospital and three days later he died in his sleep from the widow maker heart attack. With the history of heart disease in the family, his grandfather/father passed away from heart disease at the age of forty years old. Waking up that morning and finding Mike has passed away in his sleep; was very devastating for our family, his mom, brothers, my sisters, and brother-in laws. At the time of his death, I was thirty-six-years old, a stay home mom, and our children Amy, was eleven years old, Kristina, nine years old, and Vincent seven years old. The hospital did not take any responsibility of his passing; we received no social services or any explanation from the hospital why the tests didn’t show any results of heart disease. Now my status is widow/single parent unemployed raising our three children on my own. Not knowing what the future holds for us.

When I was a kid in Lakewood Washington I had always loved Halloween and going trick or treating. I was going to be a ghoul that year and I had just gotten home from school and I said “Mom, mom where are you.” and I see Torin my little brother in his crib crying my moms door was open and I walked in to look for mom and I see her dead in the closet hanging.

I'm trying to recall the people I met last night.  Please help to remember them.

Everything began when mum died. She wasn’t sick or had any terminal disease, she was in a terrible car crash. Whilst driving through an intersection a drunk driver decided he would go through during a red light. He crashed into the driver’s side of the car, where mum was. I got out of the crash with just a broken arm, mum didn’t. At first I thought she was just unconscious but as I took a proper look at her, I realised that wasn’t the case. She died on impact. I was rushed to the hospital, only to come out with a pathetic cast on my right arm. The paramedics looked at mum and with one look they could tell that she was already gone.

The death of a loved one is one of the most challenging events I have had to overcome. The summer of 2014, I was just going into my junior year, was one for the books. It was an absolutely amazing summer. My sister had her first baby in May and we were getting to make his first summer his best, but little did we know it would also be his last. We lost him at the end of July. It was one of the hardest things to cope with. So many unanswered questions still to this day stand.

A few weeks after her death I walked passed her mother and big brother. My knees went weak like I just stood through an earthquake and my heart stopped beating. Her mother politely asked how I’ve been keeping in a friendly way I said “I’m okay” but deep down I wasn’t. She told me how things have been really tough but she was starting to manage and handle things a bit better. I could tell that her mother was broken inside and so was I. She managed to force a smile as she said goodbye.

I stepped out of the car and immediately the crisp, cold air nipped at my nose. I shivered. I heard the gravel crunching underfoot as I walked to the trunk of the car to get the sleds. I grabbed the blue sled and, my mom followed me as I climbed up the snow-dusted hill, carrying the

My body started to shiver as our flight landed on the grounds of Edmonton AB. We drove home from the airport, looking at thick blankets of snow covering the bright green grass from view. Just staring at the thick snow reminded me of when I and my friends used to run in the sand trying to chase each other. As we arrived at our new house I opened the door looking inside gave me a fright. The door lead to darkness and almost resembled a haunted house. I slowly walked up the squeaky stairs with my mom leading the way. As we arrived I twisted the doorknob and turned on the light, there it was a plain old room with white walls and scratches that accented the white paint.

In the beginning, the loss of my Pa was hard to process. I was in total shock. In my mind, " there was no way Pa was dead". Two days before I had just visited him. Once reality hit, the emotional issues emerged. Feelings of anger, sadness, disbelief, crying, you name it I experienced it. By the grace of The Most High being in a close-knit family assisted me with pulling together in that trying moment. My Mother, Siblings, Cousins, extended family, ectera, were instrumental in how I handled the grief. At first, I participated in unhealthy forms of coping with Pa's transition. For example, when my family wanted to drink in excess in remembrance of Pa, I was there. Alcohol allowed me a way to numb the pain. Another unhealthy way I coped was oversleeping

One day in the year of 2017 I've cut because I felt that I wasn't getting loved by my family and that no one would listen to me when I wanted to say things. I’ve cut and I tried to hide it from everyone but one day my mom asked me to get her juice, so I got up and I gave it to her, but she saw my arm and she said “what is that” I was quite and walked away. My mom loved me so much that she told my step dad and we went to get lunch with my sister. We were sitting in the car waiting for my dad's truck to be fixed and he said “so why are you doing that stuff.” I started crying and I told them all my feelings and why I was cutting, suddenly my mom starts to cry and my dad was talking to me still, am watching my mom cry when I started to realize

It felt as if the cold was piercing through my blanket. I tried to warm up in my sleeping bag by moving around, but without being able to make a fire in the tent I couldn’t get warm. Somehow my friend had already fallen asleep, but as I lied awake I could hear the creaking of trees in the wind. I had to go outside because I could