Well I think I'll bring you back to my last memory of my mom, it was probably early February seeing as she passed away on the 4th..I have no clue what day of the week it was, or if it was a weekend or week day.
I remember getting up and my mom was still sleeping, and my dad was already gone for work. I did think it was strange that she wasn't up yet, since she was always awake ready for me in the kitchen, or calling me to get out of bed.
Oh well I figured she was tired and I could make my own cereal.. I decided on Shreddies, oh wow I love my Shreddies, add a little brown sugar on there and it's the perfect breakfast!
As I'm eating my cereal I remember hearing my mom get up, she didn't call my name or anything. Just went straight to the washroom.
Then I hear it, vomiting, crying... She's sick! Oh no, all i think is Daddy isn't hear to take care of her.
I can do it I tell myself. How hard can it be? All she'll be doing is staying in bed.
I remember getting her some orange juice, I had no clue why but for some reason when you're sick you drink orange juice. See I can do this! Not so hard, Oh and a pot! This way she can stay in bed and not have to keep running to the washroom.
As I start walking up the stairs I can hear her more clearly, as she was weeping in discomfort mumbling how awful she feels.. I know I've heard these words before, but I don't remember her actually physically being sick. I just remember the weeping and mumbling while ill in bed..
I put the orange juice on her side table, and the pot on the floor beside her side of the bed.
"What are you doing Ilene" I turn and see her at the doorway as she hunched over leaning in her dresser. She doesn't look well. Large dark wrings under her eyes, and her beautiful tanned skin looking sallow, my heart hurts... I'm suddenly a little scared.
"Mommy, are you ok?" I ask in a very shaky small voice. As her posture gets taller, she puts on a smile, clearl seeing the fear in my eyes she replies.. "I'm ok hunny, I'm sick but I'm ok."
"I got you some orange juice, and a pot so you don't have to go to the washroom." She walks over and pats my head before slowly climbing back into bed. "Thank you" she simply says and closes her eyes.
At this point I'm really not sure what happened next. Strange... Such an important part of my life and there's missing pieces..
The next thing I remember is my dad being home watching t.v on the couch and she's still in bed ill as can be. I remember thinking that it's bad, I remember being scared.
As I stand beside her bed talking to her, she asks me to ask my dad to get her some ginger ale.. I run out of the room towards the stairs and yell down "Daddy!! can you get Mommy some ginger ale?" No response.. I yell again "Daddy!" Nothing. "Ilene, walk down and ask him" My mom say's from the bedroom.
So I do. He's sleeping on the couch. "Daddy" I pat his shoulder "Daddy, mommy need some ginger ale" I say..
"WHAT!" he yells barley saying the word clear enough for me to understand. "Mommy needs some ginger ale" I repeat.
"Then go get it" he says.. Ok, I think how the heck am I going to open a bottle of pop!? I seriously have never done this before.
I go to the fridge and open the door hoping I can do this. If I can't I just know my dad is not going to be happy.. Nothing like waking up a grumpy parent who doesn't want to be woken..
As I pull this big bottle out of the fridge the door bangs me and of course... The bottle drops. I freeze thinking my dad is about to give me an ear full.. I wait, he doesn't say anything. Phew.. I pick it back up and notice foam at the top.. meh not sure what that's all about.
I open the bottle and the foam that was on the top blows out like a volcano, spraying me in the face and the entire little u shaped kitchen.. I scream! I had no idea that this would happen, and how did soo much foam come out of the top of this bottle!?
"Ilene, wtf is going on in there!?" My dad yells, as I can hear him getting up from the couch in the living room.. "I don't know, daddy the bottle made a mess"
"WTF, are you doing" he belches as he comes into the kitchen. "You said I could get mommy some ginger ale" I reply.. As that freakin frog comes back into my throat and tears appear into my eyes.
"What are you talking about Ilene, I never said you could pour pop!" I just shake my head yes but the words don't come out.. He grabs the bottle from my hands and grabs a cup from the cupboard slamming it down he pours some ginger ale for my mom.
"Do you think you can bring this to her Ilene, or should I bring it" he asks. "I can", I say just wanted to run upstairs to be with her.
I bring my mom's drink up to her, she takes a sip.. Weakly she asks what happened. "I just made a big mess mommy, I'm sorry". As I climb into bed with her she puts her arms around me and whispers in my ear "it's ok baby, thank you for my drink."
Again I forget what happened right after this..
The next thing I remember is a lot of commotion going on upstairs.. My dad yells out to me "Ilene call 911, tell them your mom is very sick".
I grab a chair from the dinning table and push it to the wall that separates the Kitchen from the Dinning area. I pick up the the old beige rotary phone hanging on the wall and dial 911, strange to some people, but I know what to expect on the other line. I've called a few times before when my parents had been fighting.. Only when my mom said to call would I call.
I don't remember the conversation with the operator. I don't remember my mom coming downstairs. I don't even remember saying bye to her. I don't remember kissing her goodbye, or what she said to me before leaving, if she was even able to say anything to me.
I remember crying and looking out the screen door, and seeing the paramedic's push her into the back of the ambulance as she laid out on the stretcher. I remember wanting to go with her, but my dad said she'd be fine and we'd go visit her in the morning.
The morning never came... Well the morning came but my dad came home looking more sad than I had ever seen. My mom wasn't with him. "Where's my mommy?" I asked him. "She's not coming home Ilene, she's in heaven. She's not coming home"..
I don't even remember how I reacted.
{{{Lena}}}
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