The Day I Lost my Mother

On January 28, 2018 at roughly 6am I called back an unknown number that called me at 3:59am and got news that would change my life forever: my mother passed away.

The coroner was unable to reach anyone else so I was the only one that knew. I ran downstairs to my then fiance and stood in front of him while still talking to the coroner, mouthing the words "my mom died" while trying to listen to the slur of words on the other end. I kept asking the coroner what to do but he must have sensed that I was in shock so he told me to take some time and call him back in a few hours. We hung up and my legs went out. I fell into Ryan and screamed. Sitting at the kitchen table, I called Aubrey and asked her what to do. After all, my grandparents, my BEST FRIENDS, have lost their baby and they don't even know yet. We decided the best thing to do would be to drive there and tell them. I waited 45 minutes because I knew that they were up and getting their morning started. I could picture grandma with her curlers in and sipping coffee and grandpa watching the news at the table and I wanted them to have one last normal morning before I went in and shattered it. 45 minutes later, I began the 50 minute drive to their house. When I arrived, Grandpa opened the door and asked if everything was okay. I shook my head and went to the other side of the table, putting it between me and them. I stood there for what felt like forever as they both kept asking what was wrong.

I started at them, knowing that my next words would crush their entire reality.

Finally, I was able to choke out the words "my mom has died".

Grandma wailed - a wail you only hear when a mother has lost her child - and rushed over to hold me with grandpa. They both apologized over and over to me and I just stood there holding them, knowing that my pain was microscopic compared to theirs. A few minutes later we sat at the table so I could tell them what lead up to this moment. My grandpa called the coroner himself and we decided to go to the hospital where she was and see her. I say "we" lightly... my poor grandpa needed to see her but I already knew it would be too much but let me tell you, when someone is in THAT pain, you do whatever the hell they want. If grandpa wants to see her, he is going to and I will be there. We drove to Mercy Hospital in Troy where the coroner lead us to the morgue. He asked if we wanted to be there when he pulled her out or if we wanted to wait outside. Well, outside is just on the other side of the wall. Though we elected to stay outside, we still heard the drawer, the clank of her hitting the metal table, the zipper, everything. In hindsight, I wish we would have just been in there. He warned us that it would be hard - this isn't someone who has been prepped by a funeral home after all. Let me just say... "hard" doesnt even begin to describe the five minutes we were there with her. What I saw still haunts me to this day. At one point, I had to walk away and my legs gave out on the other side of the wall. I collapsed in the middle of the hospital hallway and just laid there sobbing. My grandparents finished up and came to get me and together we went to the waiting room to talk to the coroner. We demanded an autopsy because things didn't make sense surrounding what happened and unfortunately to this day they don't make sense and it feels like we never got our closure. May I just say... grief takes on a lot more steps when you don't have direct answers as to what even happened to a loved one.

Once our discussion was over, we went out to the corners truck where he handed my mom's things off to my trembling grandpa - an overnight bag and a grocery bag tied in a knot containing the clothes she was wearing at the time of her death.

Once we left the hospital, we decided to go to her home and get the packing process started. She lived in an apartment and because she died on January 28, we figured if we did it in time we could be done by the 1st and wouldn't have to pay rent for another month. My grandparents had a key so we let ourselves in and got to work. I think the shock was embedded in us at this point because for the most part, all three of us were on autopilot; packing, sorting, moving.

When we arrived, though, I had a surreal moment of wonder. Just 24 hours before, she was in there eating lunch. She was living life like normal and getting ready to go to her boyfriend's house. She tidied up, she made her bed, and even left a pot of apples and cinnamon that had been simmering just 18 hours before on the stove for the next day (my family and I LOVE to simmer apples & cinnamon on the stove for a natural air freshener). 24 hours ago, she had no idea this would be the last time she would leave; the last time she would tidy for herself and lock her door.

We loaded up both of our cars to the absolute max and decided that we had done enough for the day. At this point, it had been about 12 hours of activity and we all were completely spent.

I went home that night and cried with my family. I did nothing but cry all night and into the morning. At some point I took a nap but wouldn't describe this as a sleep by any stretch.

The next day, we would all meet at her apartment with my Aunt Susan and Uncle Chuck to finish up cleaning. They were there much earlier than me so when I finally arrived, there was little left to do. I walked into the apartment once it was completely empty and asked if I could just have a moment alone there. I closed the door and collapsed right where her bed used to be.

Just two nights ago, she slept there.

I cried.

I screamed.

I asked her why and I asked her to tell me what happened because nothing was adding up. I allowed myself to stay there until I was calm. When I was finally done, we all left and headed to Susan & Chuck's house to make funeral arrangement calls. Once we knew where they wanted to do everything, we all went together to the funeral home. Followed by the home was city hall where we had to purchase a plot. We all went to my grandparents' house afterward before finally heading back. On the way, because I rode with Susan and Chuck, the three of us stopped off for food.

Again, enter surreal moment. I wondered how many times I have encountered someone going through this while working in the public. How many people have I served that have just left making arrangements for their mom? How many people have I served that just lost their baby or little sister the day before? Let me tell you, loss like this changes your perspective on damn near EVERYTHING.

When we left there, I headed straight to the salon because I had an appointment to get my hair done from weeks before and wanted to keep it so that I could get some self care. At the salon, I was surrounded by people who, for the first time, had no idea what I was going through and it was refreshing. Of course, Allie and I talked about it a lot but I did text her right before I came in just to warn her that I was a little off and also I looked INSANE. Like, I was likely the most unkempt and horribly dressed that I have ever been in public that day. No one cared, though, and it was a nice escape.

To this day, I still think about how glad I am that I kept that appointment and how lucky I am to have such an amazing support system. My family is phenomenal and we have all been there for eachother through some intense times and I am just so blessed.

And friends: get you a salon that you can go to during times like these. That may sound stupid but that's an unmatched level of comfort and love that really stood out to me that day.