I think about my mother every single day.

Almost three months ago, now.

I still feel like a bad daughter because I haven't called her yet today.

I got thinking about her upcoming memorial birthday party at my house.

Maybe I haven't really mourned.

I'm sure mourning tonight.

The memories are honestly getting sweeter.

But, tonight, for some reason, all the sadness, all the trauma came flooding back.

Hopefully, it means I am healing.

*************************************************

I took my hand off her heart when there was no more beating.

I stood there, holding her hand and talking to her until the nurse came.

I held her hand as Jann lowered the head of the bed so Mom could be comfortable.

As I helped the nurse roll her over,

I noticed the blood had already began to pool on her behind and the backs of her legs.

I watched helplessly, as her lifeless left hand slumped off her belly onto the bed

As I pulled her toward me.

I helped close her eyes.

I watched as the nurse closed her mouth.

I couldn't touch her mouth.

I helped put a clean gown and garments on her.

I helped Jann cover her with the quilt she made for Mom.

I took the ring from her finger

To be cherished as long as I live.

I stood by as the young men from the mortuary gently

Wrapped her in a sheet and laid her on the gurney,

Then covered her with a brocade quilt.

I stood on the porch, saddened by the idea that my

Mom was all alone in the hearse,

Driving away to spend the night in a refrigerator.

These memories are etched in my head for eternity.

And I wouldn't have changed one thing.

Not one.

I have consoled myself that as sad as I am to send my mother to the Spirit World,

My father is as happy to welcome her Home.

I'm not being selfish, Dad.

Well, maybe I am.

Oh, Mom, you are so loved and so missed.

Forever.

And ever.