ever had your world rocked so hard that you couldn’t tell if the shit was real? I mean, I’ve been through a lot, and I know everybody has a story to tell. Living that story, living my story, had its moments, but this moment shut me down. She died. My mommy, just out of no fuckin’ where, she died. Cancer was the devil that showed up. Liver cancer was at stage 4 by the time they found it. Yes, it was about over for her before we even knew it. The way life played out this time made me feel like I was cursed or damned. At the same time, I felt like God loved me so much He allowed me to be prepared for what was about to happen. Let me explain.
On March 20, 2017, my entire family came to Florida from Indiana to spend a week with me. My mommy, both my sisters, and both my brothers and all their children had a family vacation with me. It was the most amazing time of my life. We went to Disney World. We had a barbecue at the resort. We went swimming and laughed and talked to the end of the night. It was the best. My mommy almost didn’t come because she didn’t like to travel. I begged her to come, and she finally gave in at the last minute. I was ridiculously happy. It was a week of joyful bliss, and I never wanted them to leave, but they did.
On April 20, 2017, I got a call from my brother telling me the horrible news. Mommy was sick. It was bad. She was throwing up blood and had to be rushed to the hospital. It was weird because this was a time in my life that everything was already fucked up with my relationship with my family. Mind you, some of that shit that was fucked up was all in my head, but a lot of it was very real. I was in a very bad place. I went to work that day and waited to hear back about what had happened in the emergency room. That night, I was told it was cancer, and I died on the inside. The diagnosis was fatal, and she wasn’t going to make it. I booked a flight for the next day. I went straight to the hospital when I got home. I stayed there the entire five days. I never left her side because I knew she wasn’t going to survive this. I had never seen my mommy this broken. The nights were the worst. The pain was so bad I had to crawl in the bed and hold her until they gave her the pain medication. She would cry in my arms and beg for the pain to stop. It was nothing I could do. I wouldn’t cry, though, because I wanted her to know that I was going to be strong for her so she could cry as much as she needed. When she finally fell asleep each night, I would cry myself to sleep. No one knew our nights because she would fake us out throughout the day and fake sleep when she wanted people to leave. I knew what was real. I left the day they released her from the hospital. I told her I would be back next month for her birthday. I had already booked another flight to come back. I gave my mommy a hug and kiss and told her I’d see her in a month. The next month was not good for me. I worried constantly. I called my mommy almost every day. She would always say she was good. She would constantly tell me how proud she was of me. She would give me advice about my children and how well I did with them. My family, on the other hand, was getting on my fucking nerves. All they talked about was how I needed to move back home. I was pissed when I talked to them but I understood where they were coming from at the same time. I hated Indiana with every ounce of my being and refused. I could help take care of my mother as much as I wanted right from Florida. Mommy even told me not to move. She knew I was happy and once she told me that, I was good.
On May 20, 2017, I got the call. I had just talked to my mommy before I went to bed that night. I was going to fly out earlier than her birthday because she was back in the hospital. She told me to be cool, and I only listened to her because over the past month, she had been up walking around, hosting a fish fry, and acting as if nothing was wrong. I thought she was getting her strength back. I thought the meds were working. It was 2:00 a.m. Favorite auntie was sad, and I knew it was bad. When I heard the words, it still didn’t register. I got off the phone and just sat there. I cried for hours.
The day of the funeral was the worst. All I wanted was for this not to be real. I wanted my mommy back. I wasn’t ready for her to be dead. I didn’t have enough time. She was only sixty-two years old. I had plans. She was supposed to live with me the winter months. I was going to buy her a bike and a metal detector for her walks on the beach. She loved finding stuff. It wasn’t time. Days leading up to the funeral, the phone calls from people had become damn near unbearable. At one point, my cousins had given my number to this female I had gotten into it with on a cruise with them a year before this. I wanted to fight that bitch so bad on that cruise and even more when she text me on my phone and still until this very day I and still want to punch that bitch. I guess she figured because my mom died all would be forgiven. They must have been outside their minds. I wanted to destroy something anyway, so that text message sent me over the edge. I was so pissed I wanted to jump through the phone. It was a day before I was traveling from Orlando to Indianapolis for this bullshit, and I was praying she was brave enough to show up. I was going to beat her ass on sight! My last interaction with her, she talked big shit because my leg was broke and couldn’t do anything. I was ready for her this time. She didn’t show.
The funeral was only about a couple of hours, but it felt like an eternity. All the hugs and kisses weren’t enough to cover up the pain. It did nothing. The comforting words were not comfort. Nothing helped me, and all I wanted to day to do was be over as quickly as it possibly could. It took me forever to get in there to actually see my mommy. I was actually dragged in there by my brother and sister. I couldn’t breathe. Favorite Aunt had to get me out of there. I wanted to die. It was way more than I expected to be. Again, my life was bullshit.
In the end, it turned out to be an amazing home-going celebration. My pastor preached, and boy did he preach. It was powerful and uplifting and the best part of the whole ordeal. I didn’t feel any better, but it got me through the funeral. The repast was amazing. It was so much fun and a celebration that was truly worthy of my mother’s character. I didn’t think about why we were there as much because of the people and the food. The laughs were nonstop and much needed. I knew the distraction would end. I knew once all the festivities ended, I would have to think about her. I wasn’t ready.
Mommy was life. There was a time when I couldn’t stand her ass because of how I grew up, but I learned about a lot of truths I couldn’t see as a child and I understood her. My love for her as an adult is one that words can’t even express. I miss her every single day. I miss her so bad it hurts. Never again will I take advantage of the love I have for the people in my life. Her death taught me that.
Chapter 17
17 Suicide
I Am
My true talent I cannot see
because I am
capable of almost anything.
I accomplish something.
My insides ring
because I am
strong, intelligent, self-reliant.
If I learn it, I will apply it
because I am
the woman I have always wanted to be.
My achievements, big and small, make me so proud of me
because I am,
because I am,
because I am.
I tried to kill myself today. No, really, I tried to commit suicide. I attended East St. Louis Senior High School, and this place is hell. I hate this fucking place. I don’t fit nowhere in this hellhole. The students here made me sick, and they tortured the shit out of me because I don’t have what they have. Our lights were off again, and my mommy had been missing for about two days. Don’t worry, she’s on another smoke binge. She gets a hold of that crack, and there’s no telling when she’ll get back. The gas was off too, and it’s December, so it’s cold as fuck. There’s no fucking food
