As we pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home, I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. Just a week ago, my ex-husband Rick, had brought our children back from a fun-filled vacation. They had spent two weeks exploring Tennessee, visiting amusement parks, and flying over the Smokey Mountains. He had brought them back to Ohio, dropped them off at my new house, and had asked to see the dog that my daughter adopted at the humane society. I had taken him to see the dog, she seemed uncomfortable with his presence and growled. Still he had lingered, talking about their trip and his plans for the next time he saw them. The conversation and pleasantries were hard for me to force. Years of living with someone who was manipulative and had abused …show more content…
It smelled sterile, of chemicals, of death. I had requested beforehand, that the children be allowed to see their father privately. No need for gawking and unnecessary displays of emotion directed at little humans, who could not truly grasp what was happening. I tried not to look at anyone as we passed by the small groups of people scattered here and there…..staring, I knew they were staring. I heard my ex-mother-n-law call out to my 9 year old daughter. I pulled her closer and we walked into the viewing room. My children began to cry. Again, I do not recall what was said. I remember that they put their notes into the casket. I remember looking at my ex-husband and thinking that this was a dream, that he didn’t look how I expected him to look. I don’t know what I thought he would look like. We stood there, for what seemed an eternity. It was probably no more than ten minutes. We exited, and immediately the children were whisked away by relatives who wanted to comfort with good intentions. It seemed that the children were drawing on the emotions they displayed. The funeral began an hour after we had arrived. My husband and I sat in the back of the room, while my children sat in the front with their grown siblings, grandmother, uncle and cousins. I surveyed the small room. Very few flower arrangements were present. I began to notice faces. No one I knew except for his family. The few people that I …show more content…
My husband was able to receive a congressional release from his station in Alabama, allowing him to come home to help deal with the train wreck that was left. Counselors have been seen, although none have seemed to help. Support groups have been joined. Dreams have been dreamed. My daughter had one where her Father appeared to her in a playground and told her that he had finally found her and her brother. My dream was a phone call where Rick told me that this was all a joke and he was still alive. Hope was still had by my son, evidenced by asking me any time the phone rang, if it was his Dad on the other
At Ten P.m on September 23, 2006, my mother Kelli Elizabeth Dicks was hit by a car on Route 146 southbound trying to cross the high speed lane. She was being picked up by a friend. Instead of taking the exit and coming to the other side of the highway, her ride suggested she run across the street. The impact of the car caused her to be thrown 87 feet away from the original impact zone and land in a grassy patch of land, her shoes stayed where she was hit. She was immediately rushed to Rhode Island Hospital where she was treated for serious injuries. When she arrived at the hospital she was rushed into the operating room for an emergency surgery. The amount of injuries she sustained were unbelievable. She broke 18 different bones, lacerated her liver and her spleen, ruptured her bladder, and she collapsed both lungs. When she went in for her emergency operation, and had her
A moment in time that I hold close to myself is the funeral of my grandmother. It occurred a couple of weeks ago on the Friday of the blood drive. The funeral itself was well done and the homily offered by the priest enlightened us with hope and truth. But when the anti-climatic end of the funeral came my family members and relatives were somberly shedding tears. A sense of disapproval began creeping into my mind. I was completely shocked that I did not feel any sense of sadness or remorse. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted to mourn, but there was no source of grief for me to mourn. My grandma had lived a great life and left her imprint on the world. After further contemplation, I realized why I felt the way I felt. My grandmother still
On November 5, 2008, William Sean Burger died from esophageal cancer. In 2004, one month prior to his diagnosis, he and my mother bought a house together. He was forced to quit his job as a trim carpenter at custom remodeling which left my mother with a mortgage to pay, along with two kids and a sick man to support by herself. In 2006 he beat his cancer, and was in remission for two years. Sadly, on the day of his and my mother’s wedding, they ended up at the mayo clinic in Iowa city. His cancer had returned and he died less than a year later. Although him and my mother were never technically married, I considered him to be my step father and role model. Three days before he died, his family came to the house and took him away. Although he
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
Death’s whisper traveled in my ear, wrapping around my mind, “I can take you away from this madness. Beyond this hell, that is life.” “Will it be more peaceful there?” I asked. “As serene as heaven above.” Possessive Depression responded. My heavy heart fluttered at the thought of serenity. No more painful days, or lonely, restless nights. No more of this living death. Anxiety murmured all my insecurities tempting me to make the decision, as every tick-tock from the clock he held, echoed in my brain, putting fear in me of things that will never happen. I thought about the invitation to eternal sleep, “I would finally be able to extract this smiling mask…” Thus, I decided to join the dance of death, done dealing with my dilemmas.
Within a week of finding out my dad was gone forever, me along with my eight brothers and sisters, my recently widowed ( and pregnant ) mom, and a handful of personal items left the comfort of our small Charleston, home and were packed up in a van and shipped off to Memphis, Tennessee to start a new life. The wound of my father's death was still so raw that I refused to accept that the strange city of Memphis was my new home, and that somehow my father was alive and well, and all we needed to do was go back to Charleston and be with him. And as days in Memphis turned to weeks ,and then months, the realization and acceptance of my new life set in, and I began to embrace Memphis as my new home. as the years passed I made
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
... at the man, the unbidden memory of my parents’ lifeless body in the open casket washes over my mind. My head begins to throb. I fight back tears, screaming in agony.
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
The moment we stepped foot into the hospital, I could hear my aunt telling my mother that “he is in a better place now”. At that moment, something had already told me that my dad was deceased; it was like I could feel it or something. I felt the chills that all of a sudden came on my arms. As my mother and grandmother were both holding my hand, they took me into this small room. The walls were white, and it had a table with four tissue boxes sitting on the top. My other grandmother was there, and so were my two aunts, my uncles, and
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
...tered and saw what was before me; my stomach got a really bad feeling and I began to breakdown and cry. My daddy was laying on a big white bed with cords connected to him. His arm was wrapped up and he had doctors surrounding him. He was crying which made me even more upset.
It took my family more than a week to plan the funeral , because they were still in shock that, he was actually dead ,and many of us didn’t have that much money at the time but luckily my dad helped out with most. Walking into the doors of the church was really hard for me, as I walked slowly I could see his blue casket facing towards me, with a bunch of flowers on top. Looking over at him lying there in a casket was unbelievable, I just couldn’t help it to let out my flow of tears, and touch his cold body letting him know that I will always love him, and that hopefully we will meet again. He wore a sky blue button up shirt with black pants and a cross chain, that had Jesus on it I placed over his neck. Omar looked very nice and like himself laying there. There were a lot of people that attended the funeral everyone said special prayers for him shared funny memories, and pictures they had with him, and viewed the body