I hope and pray that you didn't suffer. Rest in peace.
We were staying in Manado, Indonesia with my Grandparents. The morning was lovely, despite an argument that broke out between my mother and I. We decided to go out shopping. My father, mother, grandmother, grandfather, sister and I took the seven-seater car and off we went. Our shopping expedition was pleasant, and after lunch we prepared for the trip home. Before we left, I began to fill quite unwell, with a nasty headache, so on the way home- I decided to sleep. When I awoke, I was in a strange van- blood pouring from my mouth. I could barely open my eyes, but I could see my little sister sitting diagonal me. She looked so pale, blood covered her arm. Convinced it was just a nightmare, I actually pinched myself repeatedly trying to wake up. I prayed over and over to God to wake me up. But I didn't wake up. Eventually, I blacked-out again. When I woke again, I was in a make-do hospital bed. My cousin, looking scared, fanning me with paper. From my faint memory, this "hospital" was just a room with make-do beds and chairs everywhere. From there, we were taken to another hospital, where my mother had her operation. She suffered internal bleeding, varies fractures and facial damage. I cried and cried for her, I begged nurses to let me see her. I was eleven, I felt so scared, all I wanted was to hug her one last time. The next thing I remember was Dad telling me that she had passed away with my Grandmother. I cried, but I felt nothing. It didn't feel like reality. It felt like a never-ending nightmare. Again, we were shifted to another hospital. Leaving Mum behind. It was too late. I didn't get to see her before she died. I didn't get to say "I love you" and what really hurt was that the last thing we did together was argue. My little sister, of six years, hardly spoke. My Dad, heartbroken and distraught, had suffered a shattered femur bone and fractured his left shoulder. I never heard so much as an apology from my Grandfather, who was driving. We flew back to Australia three weeks later, with Dad going straight into hospital again. Having a head on crash with a truck isn't a nice experience and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. But I'd do it twice over if it meant getting my mother back. Before I lost my Mum, I had always expected Mum to be with me, to guide me, to watch me grow into a woman. I had always thought she'd be there. I had never ever thought I'd lose her. And it pains me to admit, but I didn't appreciate her when I should have. She taught me so much about life, I just wish I could have her back. Like most of you, I'd do anything. This year, on the 27th of November, will be our three-year anniversary. Despite the years, I am still overcome in grief. And probably always will be. Losing a mother is something no child should ever have to face.