Goodbye Mom...
This year Christmas came with a bit more sadness and upset than your usual dysfunctional family holiday. A week before Christmas, my mom passed away. It was a sudden event fueled by many different things.
This has been very tough for me. Months before her death, my mother and I had a conversation, one of which I will always remember, where she told me that if anything were to ever happen to her that she would not want me to cry. Well Mom, I kept my word. No tears were dropped and those words keep pounding away in my head. I am locked into an oath that forces me to be present and aware during the whole mess that was her death. I was forced to watch with eyes wide open because nobody else's were.
I got word of the incident via a Facebook post from my brother who I still believe had no idea who i was when i called to confirm. Within a few minutes, i was inbound to her house to see if he was mentally hallucinating, a likely possibility. I arrived on scene to police standing on her porch preventing anyone from getting in and seeing the scene inside. The scene outside was no better. There was no brother present. Just a family friend and my stepfather, whom was in no shape to fully see what was going on due to shock and other.
Once the police understood and believed who I was, they began to ask me questions. Suddenly remembering the conversation my mother and I had months ago, I observed what was going on, swallowed that shit that makes people cry and initiated the oath. No tears, just answers and calm, just like we discussed. My sister arrived shortly after adding the upset to the scene with wails and screams. Still no tears... just calm and supporting. I remained cool even after receiving a call from the oldest of our group that was the least bit concerned with what had happened.
When it was time to bring her out, after the asshole medical examiner did his job, I told my stepfather to leave as well as my sister so they wouldn't have to see my mother brought out. I couldn't believe it when they brought my mom out in what looked like a rolled up blanket. At THAT very moment is when I wanted to lose it. Knowing what i knew after seeing who I saw just shot right into my brain. Instead of saying goodbye one last time to my mother, i was frozen by rage. Rage from not speaking to her more. Not being there for her when she could have used my help. I had put so much distance between us because of stupid shit she said almost a year prior. I pretty much gave up on her then and instead of forgiveness i shut her out from me, the positive constant in her life and even worse, I shut her out from being the grandmother that she wanted to be. I will regret my harsh words for the rest of my life but I still kept my oath. I stayed strong. I handled it. I was there to support my sister just like she asked. Because of all of this, i just stood there and watched as they put her in the van and took her away. I wouldn't see her again until the wake. I wish I could change the actions I took that night and said goodbye to the woman that gave me the power, or curse, to suck it up and deal.
Everyone else got grieve and cry, I did not. Some of us still remain as assholes and cynics when they should be supporting those that lost, especially since it was your mother too, but still I stood back and kept it all in a nice little package in my chest. I dealt with her death in my own way. I simply remembered the best things i have ever witnessed My mother do. I remember going to Asbury Park train station, back when Asbury was a dump and Cookman was abandoned. After realizing that we had some time before the next train, my mom said that we were going to get the homeless man sleeping in the station, a cup of coffee. We went to Dunkin across the road and got a coffee, always a medium coffee. When she woke and gave the man the coffee he was very thankful. She then started to talk to him like he was any other person rather than a bum that you should keep your kids away from. She was not scared of him. This is what stands out in my mind. This image alone grants me the smile that got me through it and still gets me through it. That and her racist yet innocent comments made in conversation and text message alike. Those were always hilarious.
If i could just speak with her again one more time... I know she would start bitching about everyone and their problems and then I would have to try and try again to change the subject, fail a few times, until I could finally say that I love her and that I was sorry for what seemed like giving up on her and that I kept my promise. I stayed as tough as steel. I was there to hug and comfort my sister like a brother is supposed to. I would let her know that even though you had your battles and issues, . I still loved you and I was always rooting for your victory. I would apologize for being what seemed cold hearted towards her but in fact, i thought the tough love would help and I'm sorry. In return, I just want a smile and for her to say " It's alright kid". After all that we could hug, i would get a vaseline kiss on the cheek and I could say...
..."Goodbye mom".
This has been very tough for me. Months before her death, my mother and I had a conversation, one of which I will always remember, where she told me that if anything were to ever happen to her that she would not want me to cry. Well Mom, I kept my word. No tears were dropped and those words keep pounding away in my head. I am locked into an oath that forces me to be present and aware during the whole mess that was her death. I was forced to watch with eyes wide open because nobody else's were.
I got word of the incident via a Facebook post from my brother who I still believe had no idea who i was when i called to confirm. Within a few minutes, i was inbound to her house to see if he was mentally hallucinating, a likely possibility. I arrived on scene to police standing on her porch preventing anyone from getting in and seeing the scene inside. The scene outside was no better. There was no brother present. Just a family friend and my stepfather, whom was in no shape to fully see what was going on due to shock and other.
Once the police understood and believed who I was, they began to ask me questions. Suddenly remembering the conversation my mother and I had months ago, I observed what was going on, swallowed that shit that makes people cry and initiated the oath. No tears, just answers and calm, just like we discussed. My sister arrived shortly after adding the upset to the scene with wails and screams. Still no tears... just calm and supporting. I remained cool even after receiving a call from the oldest of our group that was the least bit concerned with what had happened.
When it was time to bring her out, after the asshole medical examiner did his job, I told my stepfather to leave as well as my sister so they wouldn't have to see my mother brought out. I couldn't believe it when they brought my mom out in what looked like a rolled up blanket. At THAT very moment is when I wanted to lose it. Knowing what i knew after seeing who I saw just shot right into my brain. Instead of saying goodbye one last time to my mother, i was frozen by rage. Rage from not speaking to her more. Not being there for her when she could have used my help. I had put so much distance between us because of stupid shit she said almost a year prior. I pretty much gave up on her then and instead of forgiveness i shut her out from me, the positive constant in her life and even worse, I shut her out from being the grandmother that she wanted to be. I will regret my harsh words for the rest of my life but I still kept my oath. I stayed strong. I handled it. I was there to support my sister just like she asked. Because of all of this, i just stood there and watched as they put her in the van and took her away. I wouldn't see her again until the wake. I wish I could change the actions I took that night and said goodbye to the woman that gave me the power, or curse, to suck it up and deal.
Everyone else got grieve and cry, I did not. Some of us still remain as assholes and cynics when they should be supporting those that lost, especially since it was your mother too, but still I stood back and kept it all in a nice little package in my chest. I dealt with her death in my own way. I simply remembered the best things i have ever witnessed My mother do. I remember going to Asbury Park train station, back when Asbury was a dump and Cookman was abandoned. After realizing that we had some time before the next train, my mom said that we were going to get the homeless man sleeping in the station, a cup of coffee. We went to Dunkin across the road and got a coffee, always a medium coffee. When she woke and gave the man the coffee he was very thankful. She then started to talk to him like he was any other person rather than a bum that you should keep your kids away from. She was not scared of him. This is what stands out in my mind. This image alone grants me the smile that got me through it and still gets me through it. That and her racist yet innocent comments made in conversation and text message alike. Those were always hilarious.
If i could just speak with her again one more time... I know she would start bitching about everyone and their problems and then I would have to try and try again to change the subject, fail a few times, until I could finally say that I love her and that I was sorry for what seemed like giving up on her and that I kept my promise. I stayed as tough as steel. I was there to hug and comfort my sister like a brother is supposed to. I would let her know that even though you had your battles and issues, . I still loved you and I was always rooting for your victory. I would apologize for being what seemed cold hearted towards her but in fact, i thought the tough love would help and I'm sorry. In return, I just want a smile and for her to say " It's alright kid". After all that we could hug, i would get a vaseline kiss on the cheek and I could say...
..."Goodbye mom".
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