However, the fact remains that she is, essentially, all alone. Who will be in that delivery room with her, if not you? Who will help her raise that baby, if not you? Who will support her when she needs it most, if not you? Who will be there for her when she feels so alone, like she does now.. If not you? I am doing the best that I can to fill your big shoes, but I am screwed without you myself... I can't figure out whether or not to finish college, because I have no one to watch my child... If you follow me at all, you'll remember that her asthma is so disabling that it has cost me several jobs. You were the only other person who was trained in her care. Now, I'm all alone. We used to spend every Friday night just talking for hours... How I loved those Friday nights... Friday nights killed me inside for months. We spent our Saturdays cleaning up, or recovering from the night before... I can't clean on Saturdays anymore, and as far as Fridays go, well, the party is officially over. For good. Sundays, we would relax, sleep in and try to prepare for Mondays. My Sundays are now sad, tainted with a new anniversary of your death. 17 Sundays have come and gone... I remember that terrible, horrible day... We had so many plans for that day, the day you died. We were supposed to get up early and go to the party store to pick up supplies for my brother's Welcome home party, we were supposed to pick up the cake we ordered for him, and bathe the dog for him. We were supposed to have a party for him, welcoming him hime on his leave from the navy. My poor little 18 year old brother who found you dead in your bed that morning. I remember his wailing, "Oh my God... Something's wrong with Mom! You have to get up and come look at her!" I ran up to her and told him to call 911 as fast as he could. If there was a pulse, it was weak. However, her skin was mottled, extremities like ice, her belly bright purple - striped, actually, her lips a deep shade of ocean blue... We didn't have a chance at saving her, but I needed there to be a chance, so I started chest compressions...
Who will guide us? This isn't fair at all... You were far too young to die, and we are all far too young to have lost you. You were my daughter's second mother, and she will be forever traumatized by what she saw... I was too engulfed by panic to kick her out of the room in time and she saw a whole lot more than she should have. I feel guilty now, for not protecting her better... I should have told her to look away, but my brain couldn't let her be dead. So I told them that while she was in terrible shape, most obviously, that there must be some chance, however slim.
My sister is only 24, my brother now 19, my daughter 12. I was 32 when these events transpired. I recently had the worst birthday of my life. Everything about it was great except that it was missing the best part, the little party that you used to throw me every year... You'd buy me a cake, light a few candles, maybe buy me a pizza with stuffed crust, and the three or five of us, depending on who we could scrape up, would have a tiny little party. I loved those little get togethers. So many people would call a birthday like that sad, but I appreciated every single one. I loved your birthday parties, and I'd give anything - anything for another one. I can't imagine how Justin must've felt on his birthday... If I were doing a good job filling those shoes, he'd have gotten a birthday card, like you would've sent to him. That thought never occurred to me, because I was so blinded by my own grief, my own problems... I made him a christmas stocking, but that was always my job. I'll make him an easter basket, too, just like I did every year. It's funny how he always thought that you packed those... I missed wrapping gifts with you last christmas, though I'm glad that the youngest of us managed to get christmas gifts from you. Props to you for ordering so far ahead of time. I will remember to do that, too, simply because you never know. I miss you more than any words could possibly express, and I have no idea what to do with anything, particularly the massive hole that is now in my heart. I am totally encompassed by despair, and have been for 17 weeks and one day.
November 22nd, everything was fine... business as usual, just like any other saturday, except that you had a few extra drinks. I wonder if those few extra drinks combined with the small amounts of "don't drink on these" medications I know you took were what killed you. I proposed this possibility to the medical examiner, who then ran more tests. Unfortunately, no one will let me speak to the doctor again, so I can't ask what those tests entailed, specifically. I hope that they are looking for combined effects of small amounts of different drugs, and possibly, what it could have done to your heart. I know that prescriptions that are central nervous system depressives, like the ones that you were prescribed, combined with a heart problem that makes your pulse drop could be a deadly combination. Add a small amount of alcohol to the mix and you've got problems...
I remember that day, hearing, "Should we call hospice?" and "I don't know, let's give it some time"... This is what was happening right before I heard the words, "call the chaplain, then the medical examiner". I am a CNA, so I know what all these things mean. Was she showing small signs of life at any point while they were trying to revive her? Perhaps she came back, briefly, and then choked? Or some higher force decided that it was really just her time, and all efforts were exhausted after a slight pulse appeared... Or maybe the person who asked was simply confused, and didn't realize that he was raising the hopes of this woman's eldest daughter, who knew that hospice meant more time. Given the lack of oxygen that I saw in her face, and the fact that it seems so obvious that it was prolonged, I believe that if they had revived her, it is likely she would have been vegetative by the time she was found. I keep wondering, had I skipped my sleeping pills, would I have woken up to the sounds of her coming home? Would I have seen that she didn't look so good, and called 911? What were her final moments like? She allegedly came home at around 3:30 AM, and was found dead at 9 AM. How do you die slowly in your sleep in a matter of 5.5 hours? Was she dying at 3:30? Is that why she was in such a hurry to get home that she left her shoes behind? She never left her shows behind before... What was she dreaming about when she died? What movies did her pineal gland play for her as she slipped away? Was it the silver thread that so many have seen? I wonder where she is now? Every day, I am consumed by this thought: where do we go after we die? Will I ever see you again? Is there a magical place where you are finally getting all the wonderful things that you deserve? Or do you exist in each flower I see? Have you been sent back to this earth, perhaps to learn to live for yourself while still serving others? I cannot think of anything else you could possibly need to learn from this world, this hell... You were the most selfless person I ever knew, and I always admired you for that. Nobody put their kids first the way that you did. I do know that during the week after you left, your television started doing things that aren't possible for it to do... I have about five channels that broadcast exclusively in Spanish, which that television is not capable of doing... Another four or so channels are suddenly narrated, as if for the blind. Another impossibility. I know that in that week, a music box that nobody could find played itself repeatedly... I know that a single frog, your spirit animal - corny as it may sound to some - popped out in 35 degree weather, singing its song just a few feet from my sister and I. And I know I'm not crazy, because other people were there, and they've seen it too. The television continues to do the things it cannot do.
So where have you gone? Why no more signs? Why are you visiting others in their dreams, but not me? We were so incredibly close to one another... We were Gilmore Girls close... I don't think I will ever find anyone else that I could possibly be that close to. I'm not upset with you, of course... I just wonder why my own pineal gland refuses to show me what I truly want to see... Is it that I'm in denial that you're gone? All I see i my dreams of you is what our future was supposed to be... If things went according to our plans, all of our plans... Kimii working in music, getting paid for gigs... Me finally done with school, you able to concentrate on something interesting... Of course, you are still drinking in all of them, but I believe it was more controlled. Teresa is older in these dreams. All is right in the world. Maybe it is just denial, since I still can't believe you are gone. I still feel like I'm just waiting for you to come home from work, since those were the only hours we ever spent apart.
On other days, I just fall apart. All day. Those are usually the days that I am out doing things, facing other people, and their questions, driving your car, worrying about how much of your money I am spending.
I am tired now, even though this entry does not have a proper ending. Goodnight.
