March 18 2013, Rice Lake Wisconsin, my mother made some juicy steak, rice and beans, the smell went throughout the house making my stomach growl. That night I was angry with her for being as stubborn as she is. I told her “I given up on her.” Instead of hugging her goodnight and telling her I loved her, I walked away, went to sleep at 12 am with a feeling of resentment and no hope.
4 hours later, I woke up feeling bad so I decided to go check on my mom. She looked like she was sleeping with her robe on, Her legs hanging off the bed, her lips pale blue, I got close enough to touch her, the coldness of her hand felt like she was an iceberg that I crashed into, making my heart sink to my stomach like Titanic did the ocean. I’m Deafened by silence and blinded by tears, I didn’t know the last words I’ll get to say to my mom is “I give up on you” The truth is, I let my worried anger get the best of me and I didn’t even get to say goodbye, she not only left me behind, she also left her other 4 kids behind Diana, Amanda, Martin “ Bobos” and Juan “Nene.”
The phone never stopped ringing. Since our brothers were living in Chicago, Diana called Nene, he began to crying, I called Bobos, he was in denial and thought everything was fine it was just a misunderstanding. He told me to “call 911 just in case, and when they get there, call me back.” I called 911. Two police officers, an EMT, a medical examiner, a graveyard priest and coroners came. One police officer made me furious, when he had my little sister go in the same room as our mother to look for a suicide letter. Every time I looked at our mom, her skin began turning bluer especially one vain going down her forehead. I told my sister to step out of the room and I will answer the questions...
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...r wrong, her unforgiving heart. I can even blame myself for not doing C.P.R or calling the ambulance even though my instinct was telling me too I just completely ignored the vital signs because it happened before and I thought she would be fine like the last time foam came out of her mouth but I second guest it and thought she was just drooling.
In the end, if someone is hurting in anyway help them even a small chat helps, know that drugs isn’t the answer because when you wake up the problems will still be there, someone’s life can be lost in matter of seconds based on choices, and don’t be so quick to judge because everyone has their own way to deal with their problems. No one is to blame for the death of someone unless it was a murder, not everyone you meet will have common sense such as the police officer. My mother always said “its better to be safe then sorry”
heart. She was only trying to help, and it hurt her more than she let
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
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
Summer was coming to an end, the night air grew brisker and the mornings were dew covered. The sun had just started to set behind our home; my father would be home soon. I walked into the kitchen only to be greeted by my mother cooking dinner. She stood there one hand on her hip, her one leg stuck out at her side, knee slightly bent, stirring the pot holding the spoon all the way at the tip of the handle. She looked as pissed off as could be. My mother always felt she could be doing a million other things besides cooking dinner. We sat there talking until I heard a familiar soft rumble in front of our house. The rumble was accompanied by my father fidgeting at the front door. His old noisy Bronco always made his presence known. He plodded down the hallway into the kitchen to greet my mother with a peck on the cheek. After one more quick stir she plopped a hot pad on the table followed by a pan of sliced meatloaf in sauce. The smell of the meat, potatoes, and veggies filled the kitchen instantly and the family gathered around the table. The meal was a typical one in our household, my mother who had a million other things to do that day, including having her own personal time did not feel like cooking a twelve course meal. However, my father who always came home expecting steak did not see the meal as appetizing as the rest of us.
The news of Grandma Singer dying had hit me like a punch to the gut. I quickly became so wrought up that I hadn’t even noticed when my mama began consoling me when she’d wrapped her arms tightly around me. At that moment it was as if I was a million miles away and all I could feel was this impenetrable wall of sadness welling up inside of me. Looking back, I don’t think I’d ever felt more abject in my entire life than I did right then, curled up in my mama’s arms crying like a baby. But then my mama said something to my step daddy that had changed everything. She said, “So, what do you think is going to happen with her house up in New York
Ok. One night my sister and I were at my father’s house. He lives in Kingsville on 10 maybe 9 acres of land in this [small pause, looks at ceiling] I wouldn’t really call it a farmhouse, just a kind of small house out there. The previous person who lived in the house was supposedly shipped to an asylum, for, you know, normal stuff [pause] schizophrenic or something. My sister and I were at the house one night and we were cleaning up the house while my dad was on some sort of job out of the state and my step mom was at work in the hospital. We were doing our stuff, and then the power flickered, and came back on. We didn’t think anything of it. Then, outside of the door, we heard a noise, kinda like a dog barking, but like, just enough not so that we knew it wasn’t. So, we hear this noise, and start to get fre...
Kneeling on my apartment floor, I held the phone up against my ear and frantically cried for help. She laid in a puddle of blood with one of her wrists slit open. I screamed her name and begged her to stay awake. The paramedics barged through the door and lifted her on the gurney, while I remained on the floor in a complete state of shock. My roommate had just tried to end her life. Police officers bombarded me with questions, but I struggled to answer them because all I could do was continuously replay the event in my head. After I finally managed to explain my side of the story to the authorities, one of the officers accompanied me to the hospital where I sat by my roommate’s side awaiting her parents’ arrival.
As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself. Sure enough, after a short period of being in the car, the questions began.
It was just like any other day of my life. My mother had conned me into coming to help her out at her job, the Washington Parish Activity Center. Of course I did not want to go down to that old, creepy, cold building after hours. It was a Friday night, and those torturous finals had finally came to an end. Spending the first night of that long, difficult semester at that place was not my plans. Sleeping, eating, and watching television was the kind of night this college student had in mind, but mother had other boring plans for her child. Hearing my mother’s nagging voice was not an option. If I did not come, she would have been complaining from here all the way to China. During that long conversation, she used the famous mother’s line, “I
I slid her sleeve up to check her pulse. I stopped. She had thin slices all up and down her arms. I remember when she told me she would never harm herself, she swore she would never cause herself to bleed, she told me she was afraid of knives and blades. Obviously she had overcome that fear. I placed my first two fingers on her wrist and checked for something, anything, but there was nothing. I remember picking her up in my arms, she was limp, and holding her crying “No, no, no. This is all my fault. I love you.” The next thing I remember is seeing a paramedic show up and pry me off of her lifeless body and haling her
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to the hospital as quickly as possible as if it may be the last time to see her older brother. My mom finally calls me back and when I tell her the news, she quickly leaves work. That after-noon I lost my Uncle.
As I arrived at her apartment she didn’t answer the door, I just went in. I walked down the hall way into her bedroom where she had pills and a beer and a list wrote out to make sure this would be her last recipe, a recipe of death. All I could do was yell, “What the hell are you thinking, he is not worth your life!” I started grabbing the pills, putting them back in a container and taking the beer. I hid the pills in my purse and went to get water. I begged with her to drink the water and remind...
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...