The day I’ve dreaded my entire life came this past weekend. At bliss in my slumber I awoken into the nightmare that is now my life. My mom called. At first I didn’t think much of it. For all I knew it was already mid-afternoon and I had slept the morning away. The phone rang with her distinctive ringtone. The sound that came from the phone made no sense at all. I immediately knew something was wrong. My mother sounded labored, delirious, upset. I knew that sound, I remembered it from almost 8 years prior when my Aunt Gloria and my Papa died. She sounded frantic and nonsensical. She kept repeating that she couldn’t find her car. My brain couldn’t understand why my mother sounded so bereaved because she couldn’t find her vehicle. But then the words came that I never wanted to hear, the words that pierced like a knife through the confusion, “Mommy is gone!”
A few days have now passed since learning of my grandmother’s passing. The very grandmother whom I’d just seen two months ago, the one who inspired several of my most recent articles. As recently as July I wrote of how I felt about what I considered to be the longest goodbye. Even then, however, I felt like I had more time. I dismissed the thoughts of time only moving forward than it standing still. Childish as it was, I felt as though if I were able to keep her in my mind as she was, then she would never truly be gone from me. And while that is certainly true, I’ve found that no matter how much sense I can make of it, there is still so much of it that is an incomprehensible haze. At times it’s a sense of calm and others, it’s a numbness of my soul. Read the rest of this entry »
