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Goodnight, Mama…

I lost my mother yesterday.  I hate that phrase.  I didn’t “lose” her.  She died.

I’m writing this with he hope that it will help me begin to process some of her death.  Please forgive the lack of coherence.  I don’t even know where to begin with this.  

We knew she was gone two days ago.  Three?  I don’t know right now.  A message from my sister, begging me to call her.  My sister choking back sobs describing performing CPR on our mother.  Watching the sky in my friend’s convertible as he drove me to the hospital.  Seeing my mother in the trauma bay and instantly knowing that my mama was already far, far away.  Nurses, doctors, monitors, seizures, take-out Waffle House, tears, shock.  

We had her vent removed yesterday morning.  Her attending physician, so kind and gentle as he listened for a heartbeat, looked at me and tenderly shook his head.  My sister reading Goodnight Moon to her as her heartbeat slowed and slowed and slowed.  Her pulse under my fingers fading away.  It took all of four minutes.  Her nurse praying Our Father with me.  My husband standing beside me with his hand on my shoulder as I prayed the rosary over her body.  The moments I took all alone with her body, telling her the things I’d wanted to say for years.  Things that will never be spoken outside of her and me.  

I can’t go beyond this right now.  I will try to set words to all of this as they come to me, but right now I have nothing.  She’s moving through me like a glacier.  


About Hormones and Hijinks

I'm also a compulsive twit:

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