Thunder and Lightning

This morning disaster hit. Emotional tsunami. Confusion, fear denial, rage, anguish and loss of control all rolled into one. Sleeping with the light on did not protect me. I woke up shortly after 7 AM. I looked over and my mom was not there. I panicked. I sleep on the floor next to her. Where is she? Why isn’t she here? What is happening? I did not remember that I was at my sister’s house. I did not remember that I was sleeping in a bed, not on the floor. I did not remember that Sunday morning at 10:20 AM happened. I did not remember that my mom is dead. I did not remember anything. I flew out of bed. I ran from room to room in the basement…scared…confused…looking for her…calling out for her. Mom! She is nowhere to be seen. I race upstairs…faster…have to find her, make sure she is ok, make sure she knows she is loved. Room to room. In and out. Room to room. Now I am yelling through the tears…voice cracking… ”Mom!”…”Mom!”…MOM! Nowhere. Back downstairs…I must have missed her somehow…maybe she is in the bathroom. Did I check the bathroom? Or the laundry room? Kinda early to be doing laundry but I look anyways. I can hardly see…my eyes filled with tears and swollen, my voice hoarse from yelling “Mom!”. In the family room downstairs I see my brother-in-law, Richard, coming in the walk-out door, from taking the dogs outside before he heads to work. He will help me. He has to help me. I need to find her. I manage to get the words out…”Where’s mom? I can’t find her…” He just looked at me and asked “What is going on?” I push past him…thinking don’t just stand there, help me. I go back to the spare bedroom…my room for now…looking around. I turn back to him and say “She is supposed to be here, right next to me.” He takes me by the arm and sits me down on the couch…saying “Jason…are you ok? What is happening?” His voice steady and calm, but fear in his eyes. He thinks I am having a nervous breakdown. Then slowly it all comes back…I start to realize and remember what has happened. Then it all comes back quickly…clearly…vividly. Swift. A blow to the heart and the mind. I remember everything. I collapse. Crying so hard I can hardly talk. Crying so hard I can hardly breathe. My sister is now sitting on the couch next to me. She is concerned and scared. I am wounded. I am empty. I am hollow. I am being pulled under in this horrendous emotional tsunami of grief, sorrow and fear. We are all scared. I cry and cry and cry. Then I tell them that I am sorry. I am sorry for what has happened. I am ashamed at such a display of lost control. That…this…is not me. Yes, I am emotional person. Always have been, always will be. Think first with the heart then with the brain. But I am not a person with emotions on display for all to see…until now…I can’t hide it. There are moments where it simply feels like it is too much. Grief. I had heard about it. Seen others suffer through it. But, personally never really knew it until now. Nothing but grief. I try to regain control…to ease their fears that something is seriously wrong…I go back to bed. I sleep…only to be woken up by the phone ringing at 10:20 AM. I kid you not. Swear to God. 10:20 AM. I need to tell the woman what menu choices we want for the funeral lunch. 10:20 AM. I am afraid I will always be haunted by that time. 10:20 AM.

I think it all stemmed from guilt. Guilt that I tried so hard to save my mom and I couldn’t. For 14 months I did everything possible to try to save her. Everything ranging from doctor appointments, tests, scans, books, research, looking up every possible hint at a new medication or procedure, watching the news, reading the papers, looking for a new breakthrough in the world of medicine, eating right, foods that heal and cure, pray, attending religious events, begging for a healing and cure. Always looking, searching, seeking. I tried to save her and I couldn’t. If only I could’ve found a lead on something. If only I prayed harder. If only I could have done more sooner she would still be here. I just needed to do more, I did not do enough because she is now gone. I failed. I let her down. I will never be at peace.

There it is. My confession. The closest I have ever come to a breakdown. Well, I guess it was a breakdown, call it what it is. I wish it wasn’t true. I wish it wasn’t real. I wish it wasn’t fact. It was not a nightmare. It was not exaggerated. It was not embellished. It was the worst morning of my life…second only to April 17, 2005 at 10:20 AM. It was real…too real. Unforgettable. This is exactly what happened. Ask Richard or Melissa…they were there.

All day today I kept dialing my mom’s phone number when I would use the phone. I did not mean to. It just happened. Auto-pilot. Never even realized it was happening until my sister looked back at the numbers dialed. Saw my mom’s. I was shocked. Please God not another repeat of this morning.

Last night I wrote…”I just want to hear her voice.”

Today I did. Today I heard her. It was real, not another breakdown. My sister and I were driving and she randomly said that a strange thing happened today and that she found an old voicemail from our mom on her cell phone. The tears fell hard. Instant. There was no pause. The floodgates opened and the tears flowed. It was hard to breath. I asked if she she still had it or if she deleted it. Scared to hear the answer. I prayed she kept it. If she erased it, I would never forgive her. Never. Prayer answered…she kept it. I break into a million pieces. A miracle. An answered prayer. A second chance. I beg her to let me hear it. I tell her that I need to hear it. She felt the urgency in my voice. She pulled over to find it, to let me hear mom once again. My beloved mom said nothing more than “just wondering when you’ll get here. Bye.” I am a broken man who got a second chance. I never thought I would hear her again. Today I heard her. I felt nothing but love.

I am still scared to go to sleep. The two worst times of the day…nighttime and 10:20 AM. I don’t know if I will sleep with the light on, it doesn’t really help after all.