It was a chilly morning in August and my phone kept buzzing in my pocket with news I wish I could change. I was sitting in the parking lot with one of my friends, talking, before we had to go to work. I grabbed my phone to figure out why it was going crazy. It was my mother: “Terrie is not doing very well; I wanted you to know. I am sorry; She’s nearing the end.” I broke down into tears while my friend witnessed it.
Terrie is a woman that loves everyone. She is a kindhearted person and doesn’t see a dark soul in anyone. Ten months earlier, she was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer; a week after that, it turned into stage four. I took the news very hard. For several months, we shared stories, laughed together and ate potato chips, since that was the only thing she could taste and keep down with her chemo treatment. After eight months, she snuck up behind me and gave me a big hug. It was one of those hugs that held onto me emotionally. After that I never saw her again, until this moment: I broke down into tears while my friend witnessed it. I didn’t go to work that day, I stayed home making phone calls and praying that I would be able to see her one last time. My mother came home to comfort me. She got a phone call stating that Terrie was asking about me. My mother rushed us both in the little red car to the hospital. I ran up
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the flight of stairs to her room, 224. I walk in quietly, everything is silent. I walked over to her right side of the hospital bed and held her hand. She was given morphine ten minutes before I came to visit. I held her hand and watched her lying there. I leaned over to her ear so she could hear me, “Terrie, it’s Allison.” She moved her head to seem more alert, her eyes still closed, to let me know that she knew I was there. I told her I loved her, and that I would see her soon. The next morning I messaged her daughter to see if I would be able to visit her again. She never replied. I went back to the hospital anyways. As I was running through the front doors, I heard someone calling my name. It was my youth leader from church. We both ran up the flight of stairs to the second floor, and sped walked to room 224. There was a sign on the door stating, “No visitors, please.” We slowly walked in, ignoring the sign. Terrie was lying in her bed humming while exhaling. Her husband was playing worship music on his phone, her favorite. Her daughter was at the foot of her bed, holding onto her mother’s ankle with a box of tissues sitting next to her. Terrie’s mother and father were on the other side sitting next to their daughter holding onto her hand. With her family’s permission, I leaned over to Terrie’s ear and whispered, “Terrie, it’s Allison again. I love you very much, and I’ll see you soon.” I waited in the sitting room with my youth leader, family and friends of Terrie. After a while, I had to leave for work.When I got off, I immediately raced back to the hospital. I found the same people in the sitting room, and joined them. After an hour, Terrie’s daughter and son came out and announced her passing. We all became one family when we heard the news.
We cried together, hugged one another, and helped each other. We all traveled to her room and saw that the door was closed. Nobody dared to go inside since her husband was still in there. Eventually, he opened the door. His eyes a pinkish red, and bags from not getting any sleep. Close family members filed in. Terrie’s daughter came back and told me that I could come in. I saw her body, still and peaceful. She told me that it was good that she’s not here because now she is painless and has hair. I slowly walked over on the right side of the bed. I stroked her hand and kissed her soft
head. I knew this day would come, but I didn’t know that it would happen so soon. When I first met Terrie, I was going through a very hard time. I was not well mentally. I was going through depression that soon got worse, and my family was going through major medical problems. Terrie was the first person that showed me what love is. She loved me no matter what. She talked me through difficult times, and prayed for me everyday. I have no idea what my life would be like now, if I hadn’t met her. She taught me how to be a loving and forgiving person, and I will forever remember that.
Over the next few days, we took it easy. I went back to work. My mom was getting worse as each day went on with a few good days in between, of course. We ended up moving my niece Lexi’s birthday up a few days because we wanted to make sure my mom would be there for it. She, my mom, couldn’t talk as well anymore, but she made the effort to sing for her granddaughter. The day before my niece’s actual birthday, my mom passed away. Her wish had come true, too. She had wanted my dad to be the only one in the room when she went.
It was a normal morning in April of 2008, when I received a call that would change my life and leave me with an emptiness that cannot be filled. Nothing could have prepared me for the news my aunt was about to give me. From the tone of her voice I knew what she had to say was not going to be good, through her sobs she informed me that my Nana had passed away earlier that morning. The moment my aunt said “Nana went home to be with her Heavenly Father”,I felt a piece of me die too. It had been a long hard year for my family, facing that fact that my grandmother was terminally ill. Her death was no surprise however, it broke my heart. The death of my grandmother, taught me love is the currency of life, love is what matters
I called her son to see if I should come and visit. He checked and called me back, and said yes, I should come. When I got to the house, the son came and took me into the bedroom, and I sat by her side and held her hand. Her husband was sitting on the other side of the bed, and her son was standing there. As I held her hand, I talked to her about when my heart had quit, and how I felt when I came back, that I had been in a better place, and would have been happy to stay there.
She had said she knew this would be the last time seeing me, she was so certain of it. Unfortunately, it was the last time she saw me. She had passed away, she had cancer. Hearing her tell me this story made me more sick. I felt guilt and sadness. I wanted to run out and cry. I knew she was sick and didn 't even bother visit her. I didn 't say goodbye. That was part of the reason I didn 't return to Peru. I felt like there was nothing left there for me. I understood why cecille was wearing all black and why that’s her go to color every day, she’s still mourning. She still hasn 't been able to let go. She’s the type of person who wants to drink because she’s sad and alone. I could see the tears in her eyes and her really fighting them from streaming down her face. She can’t hide her sadness and I can see my mom joining her in the conversation about how hard it is to lose someone you love dearly. They keep repeating to us how much they miss their mothers and how much they really needed them. This was my most memorable and emotional meal because not only were we inside an amazing restaurant but it so happens that everyone there was enjoying
The Fates had turned against me turning their strings against me. Out of the blue, on a cold winter morning my grandmother passed away. It was the most inconceivable thing to have ever happened to my family. She had no signs of passing soon and yet she was gone in a snap of the finger by death.
It was a normal morning in April of 2008, when I received a call that would change my life and leave me with an emptiness that cannot be filled. Nothing could have prepared me for the news my aunt was about to give me. From the tone of her voice I knew what she had to say was not going to be good, through her sobs she informed me that my Nana had passed away earlier that morning. The moment my aunt said "Nana went home to be with her Heavenly Father",I felt a piece of me die too. It had been a long hard year for my family, facing that fact that my grandmother was terminally ill. Her death was no surprise, however, it broke my heart. The death of my grandmother, taught me love is the currency of life, love is what matters
In December of 2006 each and every one of my family members life had turned up side down. What I want to say is that my parents near death experience provoked a sad emotion I wish to never experience again in my life.
She never hurt another soul, nobody as kind as she. Then she left me that night, no word of good bye or any wave, or hug. Nights after that I cry myself to sleep, the anguish so harsh, the wound etched so deep. I thought my heart could never feel the love that I felt for my mother. Days go by and I learn to cope with life without her loving presence, her words so sweet and wise. Her spirit never dwarfed by the agony that plagued her. I am sure she never wanted to leave me, yet another call beckoned her. My heart cracked and slowly died when she left, still so much distress in my heart. Then you came into my life; you brightened the darkest parts of my soul. You shared with me your love and your heart.
My stomach weakens with a thought that something is wrong, what would be the answer I could have never been ready for. I call my best friend late one night, for some reason she is the only person’s voice I wanted to hear, the only person who I wanted to tell me that everything will be okay. She answer’s the phone and tells me she loves me, as I hear the tears leak through, I ask her what is wrong. The flood gates open with only the horrid words “I can’t do this anymore”. My heart races as I tell her that I am on my way, what I was about to see will never leave my thoughts.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.
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.
On April 17th, 2004, my eldest sister went into labor around 5:30 A.M. I honestly wasn't in the mood to go to the hospital so early in the morning, but my mother told me I should. My mom told me that it was a time when my sister really needed us. All I thought about was that she wouldn't even know whether I was there or not.
I took care of her for two years as if she was part of my family, with respect and compassion. The last week of her life, Alice was regretting quickly that she needed a hospice’s nurse coming to give medications and singing to her. Her son told me that she was ready to go, but wouldn’t let go because he was always around. So one day he told me that he needed to go to the dry cleaner. I ask him not to go, but he said to not worry. I was sitting by Alice’s bed side, watching TV, and while she was sleeping breathing heavily, I was holding her hands and singing the song: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine….” I turned my head to watch TV for a second and turn back to her still holding her hands, and she wasn’t breathing. I jumped out of the chair and I started panicking and asking her: “please wait for Barry.” After few seconds he came and saw that I was agitated and he said: “don’t worry Anna, that’s what she wanted, I am ok with that.” He called the nurse that came to wash and prepare her. I was still in shock and afraid to touch her, but the nurse told me that we still needed to respect her, so I helped wash and dress Alice. For few days I slept with the lights on in the closet near my side of the bed. Alice’s son, Barry became a really good friend of our family. He became like a father to
After the long, terrifying car ride, we eventually approached the vet. I wanted to sit in the car, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to contain myself if it was bad news. My mom convinced me to go in, and I sat there, my emotions numb. I couldn’t get myself to actually go in, so I sat in the waiting room. After what felt like years of waiting, I saw my mom walk out.
Once again my family and I were back in the cold gloomy hospital. My grandfather just had a severe heart attack. When the doctors finally let us go back to see him I was as happy as a puppy with a new ball. I wanted to give him a hug and tell him I loved him. After a couple of hours my mom took my sister and I outside to talk to us. She told us our grandfather needed surgery to live longer, but then she said something that I did not want to hear. She said he had talked to her about not wanting to have the surgery, that he was tired of hurting. She told us we needed to spend the rest of the time we had with him doing the things we loved like playing softball and watching movies together. I was not happy about this and I was not going to let him go, so when we got back in the room with him I walked up to his bed and told him I could not let him go, he needed to stay here, and watch my sister and I grow up, and watch us become better softball players. I then gave him the biggest hug I could and told him I loved him.