Hi Mom,This week is always hard, in fact this whole month is usually a roller coaster of emotions. I have flash backs of some of our last moments together but I can't remember the exact last time I saw you. That bothers me. I know I wrote you a letter because you were upset about something. I had been shopping for cowboy boots that day because I was always wearing yours and decided I wanted a pair of my own. I came back to your house afterwards to show off my boots but you weren't there for some reason, I think you were with guy you were dating. I took a nap on the couch, wrote you a note and then left after awhile to go back to the city. That was on Saturday of Labor Day weekend. The rest of the weekend I was exhausted and oddly spent most of it in bed. Maybe it was God's way of preparing me for the lack of sleep I would have over the next several weeks. I'm sure I've wrote about it before but I will never forget the sheer horror I felt when I received that phone call from Brandon. It was my worst nightmare coming true. I remember waking my roommate at the time with screaming, crying and confusion. We sat at my kitchen table as I called my Dad and others to find out if this was actually true. My mind ran through possibilities that this was somehow some huge mistake, why would the police call Brandon and not me if something happened? Brandon lives in CA, I live 20 min. away, it didn't make sense at the time. My roommate drove me to the police station in NJ as I tried my best to remember how to get to Deptford from Philly, a trip I had done 1000's of times. I had no idea how to get to your town, a place I spent almost as much time is as I did my own city. As we drove I scrolled through the contact list in my phone over and over wanting to call someone, wanting to tell someone who it might feel right to tell, but there was nobody I felt I could call in the middle of the night.
We arrived at the station and they buzzed us in because it was late, 12 or 1 am. We sat around a long table with my aunt linda, uncle Tim and Aunt Jackie (that's all I remember). The police asked me questions about what I thought you might have died from. I told them it was impossible you died from natural causes, you were too healthy. I suggested they investigate some type of foul play because I just could not wrap my mind how you could have died from something natural. You rarely drank, you ate healthy, were a normal weight and you were an active person. We requested an autopsy and would have to wait to find out the answer, it was all we could do. The police told us they found you locked inside your bedroom, in bed. For a long time I couldn't get the images out of my mind, what you might have looked like when the police found you. It haunted me and made it difficult for me to go into your house. The police reported there was no forced entry or any other signs of struggle so it was unlikely to be a murder. They suspected it was a heart attack, but I refused to believe this because one time you told me your Dr. said "you have the heart of a child" from all the tea you drank.
When we left the police station my roommate drove me over to my Aunt Linda's house and I remember sobbing inconsolably on her couch for what seemed like hours. At some point Brandon, who had been in NYC for work coincidentally, and my Dad arrived. It was still dark out. I'm guessing it was 3 or 4 in the morning. I ran out the front door hysterically crying and embraced both of them. The rest of the morning I spent crying on my Aunt's front stoop as I called my friends to tell them what happened. It was the worst night/day of my life. I didn't sleep for several days.
My friends Niki and Katie came to be with me and help me as I somehow started to handle the aftermath of your death. There was a lot of legal stuff to do b/c you didn't have a will. I remember feeling as though I didn't have the strength to do any of the things on the list, but luckily I had my friends to help me and for that I will always be thankful. My Aunts and others planned the funeral b/c I just couldn't focus on that, it was too painful. I remember not wanting to get off the phone in those next few days. I was on the phone talking to someone all hours of the day and night. At some point that week we moved into a hotel in Deptford and Niki and Katie stayed with me. Katie's Mom brought us food and Niki called my Dr. to get me some help - I was losing it. In the bathroom of that hotel room I said for the first time in my life something I will never forget - I didn't want to live anymore. It was Sept 10th, 2005, the morning of your funeral. The 2nd worst day of my life. The anguish and pain I felt that day is indescribable with words. I had decided to speak at your funeral and through a haze of tears I tried to convey the type of mother you had been to me. I'm sure I could've done better if I was not in so much pain.
During the next few days I started to remember some of our last conversations. I remembered you telling me you had pain in your arm when you were taking laundry out of the dryer. I remembered a conversation at the diner the weekend before when you got mad at me when I asked you if you had a will. You snapped at me that you didn't want to talk about it, which makes me think that maybe you knew something was wrong. I remember the last day I saw you, you told me you had fainted the night before after a glass of wine. I told you it was probably nothing and we went about our conversation. I was wrong, as you stood in front of me, telling me the story about how you fainted, you were about to die any moment from a massive pulmonary embolism. 2 days later, you were gone. I remember a lot of people at your funeral. Family and friends from NY and NJ came to pay their respects to you and your family. Even my high school boyfriend came, which I remember feeling oddly comforting and familiar. Our relationship started two weeks after the death of his father from cancer. Now we had something else in common. One of your friends, Mel, gave me a poem that was special to him. It was tattered and teared and he said it had been passed along to people who were grieving and now he wanted to give it to me. I still have it, I haven't been able to give it to anyone else. After your funeral life became more difficult because all of the people and support had subsided. All of the activity quieted down and everyone went back to their normal lives. Everyone but me. My normal life was spending 2 - 3 days a week with you, at your house. Brandon went back to CA, my Dad went back to NY, my friends went back to their lives and my aunts went home to take care of their kids, but who and what did I have? The loneliness and anxiety that entrenched me in these next few weeks I thought might actually kill me too. It was during these weeks that I became scared about my own health. I was certain the pain in my chest was a heart attack, but looking back the pain in my heart was for you.
Since that time, 7 years ago, a lot has changed. I've moved several times, changed jobs several times, ended relationships several times and I'm not sure yet why I've made some of the decisions I have made. All I know is that I have done the best I can at trying to find a way to be happy and JOYful again. I do know that your death altered the course of my life in both positive and negative ways. Your death motivated me to follow my career dreams and go back to school to become a therapist. Your death reminds me that life is short and pushes me to say how I feel to others to make sure they know I love them or care for them. I've also pushed people away from me that I care about and that part I haven't quite figured out yet. Remember when I was 3 or 4 and I used to get lost in the grocery store? Sometimes I still feel like that lost little gir,l frantically searching down aisles for the answer, safety, comfort and home. I have a deeper understanding of what suffering is and have found a way to accept that bad things will happen in this life. I have felt pain at a young age that most people can't understand and I feel at times that this separates me from some people, and draws me closer to others. I know I wouldn't be able to help others without first experiencing my own losses and heartache. I have a richer understanding of lifes misfortunes but also the experience to overcome these challenges. I know that through my loss, I will be able to help others who are grieving and hopefully find my way too.
