Her Soldier
by Jackie Chinchilla
There wasn't enough time. Everything happened so quick between Thanksgiving and now. I lost my Mom last Sunday, Dec. 11th 2011 at 11:53AM at the age of only 51. Multi-organ failure in a matter of 2 weeks and 1 day, life support the entire time in ICU. 2 days after Thanksgiving she was put in the hospital. She was diagnosed with liver disease in Nov. 2010, but they said the diagnosis was too late. This had been in the works for years. And then I left her in Jan. 2011 for Basic Training in the US Army and just returned in June. Throughout all my training, I couldn't help but feeling I had made the biggest mistake in my life by leaving her. So in reality...I only got 6 months with my entire world. I waited on her hand and foot, absolutely lived for her. And I don't regret a day of it. I wasn't a bad child, very mature for my age in fact, given the lifestyle we were forced to endure. Glad to say that throughout my entire life, I worshipped the ground my mother walked on. She was my everything, and I can't fully come to terms with what has happened. I lost my best friend. Her life was devoted to her 3 children. She was a homemaker who had given up everything for us. She was abused inhumanely, physically, mentally, and sexually for nearly 23 yrs by her now estranged and widowed husband. A disgusting human being I'm completely ashamed to call my father. I'm her oldest at 22, left to raise the youngest who is 14 and special needs. He's a good boy though, not much trouble and we have fun. I remind him, I'm his sister, not his mother, but I would like some sense of respect. Trying my hardest to keep it together for the two of them. The 18 yr old is withdrawn and seems indifferent to her death. But I don't push him. He's hurting too. Just showing it differently. I talk to her often (not in public mind you). I don't know if it's to console my own mind or that I've completely lost my marbles. I also have a beautiful Memorial display for her in the bay window in the living room. Every day and night the candles burn for her. I keep her clothes, and her bed is made and waiting as if she was going to return from the hospital at any moment. The house is clean as she would want it, laundry done, ect. I've been feeling lost and out-of-control. Spiraling anxiety and panic attacks. Can't look at a hospital without setting myself off, and I fear if I go near the hospital where she passed away, I might end up going to the psych. hospital. I was there when she passed, and the 18 yr old told me that they were going to sedate me to calm me down. I don't remember much after I realized she wasn't breathing. Someone screamed. Now I think it might have been me. I keep reliving her death over and over in my head, all hours of the night and day. My biggest problem is telling the difference between severe grief and a depressive episode. Everything is a fog at times. The death, the burial. I'm waiting for her to call me and tell me to pick her up at the hospital like other times before. Her bag of clean clothes is still sitting in the trunk of my car. And she'll be happy that the house is clean, and her bed is warm and welcoming. I'll get her in the house and help her to her bed, turn the tv on for her and tuck her in comfortably. Then I'll run to the pharmacy and get her medications and leave them by her beside with a few fresh bottles of water, juice, or ginger ale. She loved her ginger ale. Settled her stomach. I felt useful. I felt needed. My mind couldn't even comprehend her death. If I even thought about her death for an instant, I thought I might have a nervous breakdown. With the way I've been feeling, that might not be out of the question. I fear I might be headed that way. And I told her. I always told her that if I ever lost her, I would have to either take my own life or be committed to a ward. And she would rub my face gently and tell me that no one lives forever. That I would have to carry on and live my own life, have my own children and watch them grow. I would tell her that there's no life worth living without her. She would have no response. She always saw straight through to my grief when we would even bring up the subject. As if I was constantly mourning her in the back of my mind even though she lived and breathed in front of me. I don't know how to cope. My mind won't let me become fully aware of this whole mess. It's the worst psychological and emotional pain a living person can endure. Devastating is'nt even the word. In the next week or so, I plan to see a professional about all this. It's too much to handle, and I have to pull it together for my two brothers, it's what my mother would want. I think she thought it would be ok to let go because I would take care of them, and she could finally rest. Can't let her down. I'm her Soldier. I know this was all random writing, but I thank you very much for reading and God Bless the loved ones you've lost.
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