I really cannot recall how long she was in the bathroom, but when she came out she looked as if she had seen a ghost. She was pale and distressed. The only words that came out of her mouth were directed to my dad. All she said was, “Randy, call 911, I can’t breathe.” I will never forget those words because they hit me like a ton bricks. Unable to move under the weight I sat there motionless, while my dad dialed the numbers. So many thoughts were raging through my mind. What’s going on? Oh my God, what is going to happen?
As the initial shock wore down I watched my mother struggle for breathe. Only thing I could think of doing was to run to the other room and cry. As I looked through the window in the next room, I remember seeing, through my tears, the blurred flashes of the ambulance lights arriving at my house. Time seemed to stand still as the paramedics rushed into my house. Each and every moment seemed to last forever, although it had been less than twenty minutes since my dad called 911.
Curiosity finally overruled my fear and I decided to rejoin my mother as the paramedics fought to keep her stable enough for transport. Through her struggle, she motioned me to go and get her shoes for her. I did as I was told and while I was putting them on her, I noticed her feet were grayish blue and cold as they ever have been before. What seemed like eternity, which I found out later was just over an hour, they finally took her away in the ambulance.
I wanted to pretend that nothing had happened and to believe that my day was perfectly normal. I insisted that I go and nanny for the weekend like I was planning on doing. My dad said he was going to call when he found out something new. With the baby I was going to baby-sit the next morning already asleep, I had nothing better to do then go to sleep myself. I crawled into bed and tried to force out any unwanted thoughts. Strangely enough, I feel asleep quite quickly.
A little past midnight my dad called saying he would pick me up and tell me what’s going on once we got home. I went and woke up Nanci, the lady I was baby-sitting for, and told her that I was leaving as soon as my dad came to pick me up. A few minutes later my dad showed up with a somber demeanor. He did not say anything to me, but did say something to Nanci. I could not make out what it was for sure, all I know was that all her color ran out of her face and she gasped.
As I entered my house I noticed a half a dozen grave faced people, people who should not be there if everything was alright. My dad sat me down next to my mom’s best friend and told me that that my mom did not make it. She died at the clinic, shortly after midnight. I could not believe what I was just told. It was just too unconceivable to be true. I had just been joking and watching movies with her hours before. She did not die. She cannot die. She is my mom. When you are twelve year old girl, your mom does not die, she cannot die. She is invincible.
I looked around and noticed no one laughing. No one had even the hint of a smile on their face to tell me they were joking. It was at that moment when the truth finally set in. I realized my mother had died and there was nothing I could do. Right at that moment I cried harder than I had ever cried before. Less than a month before my thirteenth birthday, my life was ripped apart and would never be the same again.
Each year after I think about how my life has changed. The first years were the most dramatic. I was a teenage girl without a mom. I had to deal with puberty and adolescence without a proper role model. There would be days that I forget, and want to go home and tell my mom about my day and come to the sinking realization that I cannot. Throughout the years I have learned how to deal with this change.
I told myself shortly after her death that I would get good grades and be the best I can be because I know that is what she would have wanted. Throughout high school I remembered my promise and graduated as salutatorian of my class and went on to be a UA Scholar at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and I plan on getting my Ph.D. No one ever forced me to go to college no one even helped me decide where I want to go and what I want to do with my life. If she had been alive my life goals would probably be much different, and I would not be the woman I am today.
Not only has her death made me stronger and more independent, I have gained some very important relationships I would not have made, had she not died. The moment that my dad told Nanci that my mom had died, her motherly instincts kicked in and more or less took over my mother’s role. She became my second mom. She was there when I really needed someone. She became more than a mom; she became a best friend. If my mom had not died I would have not needed Nanci in my life, nor made the important relationship we have.
Monday marked the seventh anniversary of my mother’s death. As that day came and went I thought about what the future holds. Did her death truly make me stronger? Am I a better person because of it? No one can truly know. I do know that my life was dramatically changed on that not so ordinary Friday.
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