Have you ever felt like you were being punished for something and have absolutely no clue the reason why? I have. Have you ever been punished and know exactly why? I have too. During my moms short illness I thought, "I really hope this isn't his punishment, his lesson." I think I believed the same for myself.
The next 9 months were a blur. So we can start where we left off.
February 23rd: We all sat at my grandmas house. We had a funeral to plan. Choose the prayers, the dates, the songs, the clothes, write an obituary. I sat there with my cousin and my aunts and my grandmas. Trina and I sang songs to pick fitting ones for a funeral. I would interject when I heard something that I didn't like in the obituary. I wanted to say something "I want, I want, then finally, I just want to go home." I went home that night. Took my meds, got in the shower and cried. I cried so hard that I rubbed my eyes raw. I crawled into bed and cried some more. I woke up and my eyes were swollen shut. I cried all night in my sleep. I stared sleeping with my door locked because I didn't want anyone to come in if I was screaming in my sleep.
February 24th- February 28th or so: The planning:
We had planned everything out. The songs, the prayers, the days, the wake. My next job was to get the clothes she had picked out to be buried in. When I heard she had picked them out, I grew a little angry with her. She promised me she would fight. I went to my dad's house and started looking for the outfit. I think it was purple. She bought it to wear when she got skinny. I guess now, here was her opportunity. I started picking through her clothes. My tears grew louder and faster, before I knew it, I was ripping all her clothes out of the closet and on to the floor. Screaming in sorrow. I sat on the floor and smelled her smell. It hurt so badly. I regained my composure and placed all of her clothes back. I left her house and brought her dress where it needed to go.
The wake had to be within these few days. The family got to get there early to see the body before everyone else did. I was looking at the pictures and heard some hurried feet. "MY BABY" My grandma was at her casket and crying. My heart broke for her at that moment. My grandpa wobbled down on one knee and touched her shoulder. Parents are not supposed to put their children in the ground, no matter how old they are. I looked at her. She had makeup painted on her face. I didnt like that - she hated makeup, it suffocated her. Floods and floods of people came in. All I saw were red faces, no names, no feelings. My moms friend Cheri stopped in her tracks and whispered in my ear "you will drive in your car and burst into tears, you will listen to a song and burst, you will see a picture, a movie, a card, a smell and break down, take those moments and give them to yourself, then you will go on" I keep those words in my heart and in my head. I went home alone and took my meds, got in the shower and cried, and cried and cried. This is something that was going to become a nightly routine.
March 1st: Dooms Day. The funeral
My dads family was here as well as most of my mothers. I remember thinking of those ones, the ones who didn't come. "How dare you!. you disgust me. Unforgivable" bye bye out the door. I guess I couldn't really expect much from these few but you would think.
I changed a few times that morning. I wanted to look perfect for her. A black pocka dot shirt. A velvet vest. I think I had torn all my extensions out but I had black hair and raw eyes. I couldn't do my makeup that well but I looked presentable or so I thought. We got to the the church. I remember running around like a crazy person. Sat my dads family on one side. I saw my friends. LOVE. They were all there to support me. All had deer caught in the head lights look on their face. What did they have in store for them, What was going to happen. I don't know what any of them really thought but that didn't matter so much. They were all there. TT sat behind me. He loves my mom. Mass happened. It was over. One more bump gone over. Then we traveled to the cemetery. There were so many cars. So many. At least 600 people showed up. That made me proud for her. One of my students gave me a card. I hugged her. A six year old had compassion for me. Even though I did not know the kennedy's I felt like the Kennedy family in that procession with all the cars following them burying a president. The driver took the long route because he wanted to give her one last ride in the city. We got to the cemetery. We got out of our cars. The tears in the crowd were hot and wet. There was dirt and flowers, holy water and more prayers. She is with her family here. People dispersed. I didn't want to leave her alone here. I wanted to jump in the casket, in the ground and lay there with her. Maybe for just a moment maybe forever. We finally left and went to my aunts house for the reception. People were laughing, eating. This is what she would have wanted.
That night I went home. Got in bed and cried. A loud cry. My brother called me and told me to get up. I said no. He said, "You are not going to sit and cry by yourself. We will cry together, get up, my friends are coming to pick you up" We got to salty senoritas. All my cousins were there and even baby Kadence- at a bar at 1 month old. That has got to be a record. We sat, drank, laughed cried. I loved my cousins for this moment. They were there. Not the drinking or the partying, but they were there to support. To just be there.
The next few weeks of March. We had to pick a headstone. This fell on my shoulders, but I am sure I took the job. I wanted something perfect. I chose and angel sitting on a heart. This way she always had an angel to protect her body. Now we had to wait.
I continued school. I had a lot of catching up to do. I remember missing a science test. My teacher wouldn't let me retake it because I missed it. I reasoned with him, that I was at my mothers funeral. I believe his response was "do you know how many times I have heard that" It took everything in me not to well up my fist and hit that S.O.B. so my next best option was on his teacher review, I wished him the same treatment of me to be given to his daughters, when he gets cancer and dies. I believe my friend Amanda gave him a similar review. I loved her for that. It takes a bold person to say something balsy and reep the consequences. She stood up for what was right. I would have had a perfect 4.0 if it weren't for that jerk off.
Now it was time to start piecing everything back together. My aunt took us to Mexico. She had promised my mom she would take my older brother there. A promise my mom couldn't keep. I decided I was going to read lots of books and not fall into depression. I sat on our porch in Mexico and read. I was sneak drinking the whole time but I am sure that was noticeable. What else to do in despair. We spent week there.
When I came home, I think my friends thought it was time I got back on the horse. They felt my over amount of sleeping wasn't normal. I would go to work and school get home around 5 and sleep. I would sleep whenever I got the chance. They started to urge me to go out and have fun. I couldn't be sad forever. Ha. I started to go out and mask the sadness. Sometimes at first it was too much. I remember some guy wanting to come back and party "My response was my mom just died dick" He didn't know but I took such offense to it. Didn't the whole world know my pain?! My room mate at the time also wanted to make sure we were still having our Saint Pattys day party. I said "sure I guess- of course" So we had the party. This girl was sobbing. I didnt know her but she was sobbing for me. The girls must have told her. I comforted her. "It will be okay, I will be okay" I lie. I didn't know if I was lying to her or myself. At that time, it felt like the truth. I was with friends, and I was numb. Numb to all the pain when everyone was around. I could laugh. When they left I would cry. It was cool.
Thats how the next few months went....
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