My mom was an alcoholic. She died from Cirrhosis at the age of 43. The fucked up part is I didn’t know she had it until 2 weeks before her death.
On June 25, 1998 I woke up and walked into the livingroom where I found my mom sitting in her chair. She was so yellow and she kept vomiting black bile. I held a towel under mouth. It has been almost 21 years and I can still smell her. It was the smell of death. Her mind was gone at this point. I was scared to death. It was just me and her there. I ended up calling an ambulance but once they arrived my mom was refusing to go to the hospital. So the police got involved, asked her a few common sense questions like what year was it? Who is the President? She got them all wrong. I was begging her to go. Cops had to force her and that was the first time I got to ride in an ambulance. Once at the hospital it was just her and I in a room waiting on a doctor and I’ll never forget the look of desperation on her face when she looked at me and begged me to tell her what year it was and who the President was(she thought if she knew they would let her go home). And I’ll never forget when I had to tell her no, I’m not telling you.
That was the day I found out my mom had end stage Cirrhosis. I went home later that evening to grab some clothes and as soon as I got there I remember going straight to where she hid all of her bottles of Canadian Mist and poured them down the kitchen sink. I didn’t know at that time that she was never coming back home.
Little did I know that 7 days later my life was about to changed forever. I remember being sat down and told that my mom only had 1 to 2 days to live. I’ll never forget that feeling of not being able breath and the agonizing fear and confusion I felt at that moment. She lived exactly 2 days.
And on July 3, 1998 at 7: 04 pm I stood next to my mom watched as her eyes rolled back her head and saw her take her last breath of life. I remember looking at the nurse and asking her if my mom was dead. She said yes. I was only 14 years old.
Side Note: Just 10 years later I watched my father die from Pancreatic Cancer. He found out that he had in March of 2008 and died on May 23, 2008. I was only 24 years old. I lost my mom within a 2 week span and I lost my dad within a 2 month span. It’s so fucked up. Pancreatic Cancer is a very aggressive and vicious disease to die from. I remember getting the call from my brother. He had died before I got there. I remember my brother and I sitting next to our dead father in a Hospice bed. My brother looked at me and said I’m 27 and you’re 24, and both of our parents are dead. Talk about a hard dose of reality.
The reason that I mentioned my father’s passing is because Pancreatic Cancer is a very ugly disease and it’s an agonizing and painful death. But it has NOTHING on Cirrhosis of the Liver. End stage Cirrhosis will chew you up and spit you out. Eventually all of your organs begin to shut down. It’s such a horrible and horrific way to die. Like I said, it’s been almost 21 years since she died and let me tell you, I can still remember every single minute of every single day of the last 2 weeks before my mom’s death. EVERYTHING. I still have flashbacks.
I love my mom. And I know she loved me the best she knew how. She made sure that me and my brother never had to want for anything. This woman worked every single fucking day for 26 years for the State of Tennessee and rarely missed a day of work. But also, she made damn sure that she had her pint of Canadian Mist in her work bag. lol
I’m at peace with her death. She’s where she belongs. At peace.
But there will always be an emptiness of unanswered questions for me and my brother that will NEVER be filled. And at times it’s a hard pill to swallow. She fucked me up good with the self doubts and never truly feeling “good”enough. To this day at 35 years old, I still can’t or won’t allow anyone truly in. There’s only 2 people who are in and have fully have me and that’s my 8 and 2 year old daughter’s. No one else. And it fucking sucks.