June 30th, 2017 around 9:45am I was sitting at a table with my co-workers preparing for our Friday meeting. My phone rang not once but twice, both times it was my oldest sister. I answered flustered and agitated, like I had been all morning for no particular reason. I told her I was in a meeting I’d call her back. Before I could end the call she yelled “Mama stopped breathing, Mama’s stopped breathing!!!” Everything in my body seized and on command, in a robotic fashion I shut every emotion off. I walked away from the table hurriedly to get somewhere alone. “Well what happened...?” My sister started telling me. The paramedics needed her so we ended the call. I collapsed.
July 1st, 2017 around 12:40 am the nurse came to gather us from the family waiting room because it was happening. My legs were jello. I sucked in a deep breath and pulled all of the strength I had and we walked into her room. The on call Dr., and the nurse stood bedside near her monitor and we watched her numbers decline to nothing. I stopped breathing. I turned to ice. I walked around comforting others. I couldn’t find a tear. I remember walking away for a beat into the main hall. I called my friend Carlisa in California, visiting her family for the summer. Her mother prayed with me. After we ended the call, I knew instantly I was leaving Michigan. I felt guilty that I felt free enough to make a decision and not fear having to tell my Mama. If I could have left the moment the funeral was over I may have.
Sometime after, decisions needed to be made. What funeral home will be picking her up? Would you like to donate her eyes? Her eyes? Let me think about it. A friend of my sister suggested a funeral home in Ypsilanti, Mi. I called them. It was the eeriest feeling in the world. We all sat and stood around her bed while her lifeless body lie there, until they finally told us we had to leave before rigimortus set in. It was 4:30 am. Less than 7 hours later we were at the funeral home making plans discussing her insurance plans, cost and visiting grave plots.
The Funeral
We all arrived to the church at different times. As the car pulled around to face the church the sight of the limousines and hearse... honestly I was just in disbelief. My oldest sister and my nieces were already there. Jena, my younger sister and myself along with a couple of our friends made our way in. Familiar faces were filling the seats. Some rushed to us, embraced us. I cried a little at the sight of my mother in that stupid casket at the front of the church. People begin to file in. We hugged them as they made their way around. I became I robot, again. People were telling me I was so strong. Every time I heard it I wanted to say “this isn’t strength you idiot!!” I just smiled and nodded. Jena. I was so jealous of her. She was a hot weepy mess. Of course she was. I wanted to weep and holler and scream. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Even when it was time to close the casket. I couldn’t.
It has been 1 year and 6 months. I haven’t had one peaceful dream about my mother. They all end in her getting ready to die. The last one I had was about 2 weeks ago; it disturbed me so badly that I was afraid to fall asleep the following night. I shared the dreams with my best friend Jabin. He and my mother were extremely close. He, carefully suggested that perhaps everyone else had settled that my Mommy is gone and not coming back, but I... I am holding on to her extremely tight. See, my oldest sister and my nieces have had beautiful dreams about her. I have been so jealous. Not angry at them, just wishing for the same thing. To add insult to injury she keeps leaving me in my dreams. Jabin suggested that I watch the video “Butterfly” by Mariah Carey. He explained why and we ended our call. I did. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t having a reaction just because it was suggested I may. But boy did that act (of watching the video and listening to the words) alone seem to pull the cork out of the tear in my soul.
Over the last 18 months I’ve had grief leaks. Moments where I thought I was grieving. I was just leaking. After the song finished my mind went back to the night before my Mom stopped breathing. She was very much alive. I bought her soup she hated from the Busch near her house. I sat in her room with her, intentional about being present with her that night, and we watched The Mann’s. I was exhausted, so she rushed me to the store for the toilet paper we needed so I could hurry to bed. I came back, rubbed her legs and feet like I had been doing for the last 3 months or so, made sure she was comfortable and got in bed. Around 4 or 5 she woke me to help her back to bed after using the restroom. She got in the bed, I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. I asked her twice was she comfortable. She just made a noise. I eagerly got back to bed. Morning arrived sunny and bright. I got breakfast ready and served my Mommy. Yolonda or Bay and the last few years Sister, as we affectionately call her, came in the house and we traded off duties. As I was preparing to leave to go to my home to get ready for work, my Mommy called my name. “Jess, come look at my skin...” I asked in and rubbed her leg, “I know mommy, it’ll be better soon...” I hurried downstairs and lingered at the door. I felt an incredible urge to make sure I said good bye. I waved it away, thought “They’ll call me after the appointment and I’ll see her tonight after work.”
As these memories flooded my mind I wept deep and hard. The sound of my wail made me uncomfortable. Before I realized what was happening I started crying “You left me...”. I wept off and on until it was time for bed. I wept tonight too... The truth is, although there is a part of me that understands, the little girl who wants her Mama lives in me and she may never. I silenced her. I tried to force her to get it and accept it and move on. We know why and she’s with Jesus so we’re good! I fussed at her for needing people and being afraid to need or want people. They can say really silly things. The ones you expect to be present disappear or things become strained for one reason or another. And then you’re really grateful for those who were intentional! But can I tell y’all something.... We both, little girl me and grown adult me, just really wanted to be held, to cry and scream... I didn’t find one place worthy. She was gone. I turned off my emotions and turned on my intellect, its been this way for 18 months...
Honestly, I don’t know how to let her go yet, but I asked Jesus to help me...
