Now matter how much I prepared, I wasn't prepared
My mother died at the age of forty-five. Her spiral down was a hard battle for everyone who loved who. My mother was an alcoholic and then fell victim to hard drugs and narcotics.
Since 2005, she developed an alcohol problem. As the years went on, she started abusing narcotics as well. She wrote suicide letters on more than one occasion.
Even through all this, she never stopped loving me as a son and I never stopped loving her as a mother. I tried my best to get her to stop the addiction; but the thing is, you can't stop it. They have to stop it.
She promised to quit but then would go right back to drinking. She got to where she couldn't hold jobs and spent every night at bars.
The whole family tried to understand why she was so depressed. One thing that was a glimmer of hope was that the relationship between my mom and I was very strong. Before she started drinking, I was a true momma's boy. If I wasn't around my mom, I was not happy.
My dad and I would play fight with her, and at the end she would pretend to beat us up and we would act like we were knocked out. We watched movies together almost everyday. When I was sick, she would race me to the doctor's office and comfort me in the waiting room. She helped me with my homework as best as she could. We would always got to the mall together and then stop by for pizza.
Memories like these stay eternal. It's a good thing they do, because by the time I graduated high school, her drinking was full blown. She overdosed many times but was always treated.
In December of 2013 my girlfriend and I went up to NC to visit her for the holidays. It was the best Christmas I think I've ever had. Her drinking seemed to be controlled and we shared memories and had a wonderful time.
The months that followed that Christmas were like any other months. You get a call form your mom and you may forget to callback. But when she called again, you were eager to answer. And so I answered the phone one evening on February 28, 2014. My mom said she was going to rehab for her drinking problem.
I was thrilled. She said she would be there for 28 days. When we hung up, I kept thinking of how great it would be for her drinking to stop and that she would finally get the help she needed. Little did I know that that phone call would be the last time I ever talked to my mom again.
On the morning of March 5, 2014, I woke up like I always did. I rolled out of bed, fix my hair, brush my teeth, get dressed and give my girlfriend a kiss and a "I love you". I met my uncle and he dropped me off at my morning math class at the technical college I was attending. The sky was overcast and a light rain had been in progress all morning. About ten minutes before class was over, I got a text message. I could my phone vibrate. I didn't check it. Then it vibrated again. I didn't check it. Then, it vibrated and vibrated until I finally gave in and checked it. A message from my uncle said to come outside, that it was an emergency. I went outside immediately and saw my uncle sitting in his car in the parking lot. I got in and instantly felt that something was terribly wrong. He looked at me with a pale face and said "Your mom was found dead this morning." I felt as if I couldn't move for a few seconds and then banged my head against the dashboard. I remember in high school my dad told me to prepare for a tragedy like this because my mom's lifestyle was dangerous.
I tried to prepare myself, but I never was. My uncle told me that her boyfriend got up that morning and found her next to the bed. She wasn't breathing and he called 911. It had been too late. She died. And her boyfriend said that that night, she had been drinking. And when he found a bottle of pills that he knew were full, he saw that they were empty.
The funeral was of course, horrible and depressing. It was a nice funeral, but the circumstance was terrible. My mother was cremated and her ashes were put into a cherry wood box with a lovely humming bird and flower design on the front. Here I am now, 21 years old holding my the ashes of my dead mother.
Everyday tasks seem like huge battles. Sometimes I have to stop and just cry. I cry into my own hands and I cry into my girlfriend's arms. She doesn't think any different of me and I can't express how grateful I am for that. It's amazing how life just goes on with my mom, but yet, I feel stuck. I want to see her again so badly. I miss her like crazy.
About a month after her death, the medical examiners said that died of positional asphyxia. She passed out from the drinking and pills and remained in a position that cut off her breathing.
As sad as this is, I am thankful that she did feel any physical pain. I am also glad it wasn't suicide.
The pain of losing a mother doesn't get completely better. I know from experience. But do know that it does get easier. Think of the happy times you had with your mother. Remember that her love for you is eternal, no matter what.
I love you Mom. I'll always love you.