My mom was my best friend. She was such an amazing person. She always knew the right things to say and how to make me laugh and feel better no matter the situation. She had an alcohol problem. She drank... a lot. I was still rather young and really didn't understand everything.Almost every Christmas she would drink herself sick because she couldn't handle the stress. My dad had to take to the emergency room just about every year. I don't understand it, nor do I think I ever will. Needless to say all of her drinking caught up to her. She developed a cist on her pancrese. Doctors drained it. She developed Diabetes. I was her little nurse. I was constantly taking care of her. She was my mommy and I had to help her because I needed her. About a year later the cist came back. (Now, I don't know how true this information is, but this is what I remeber what happened. Honetstly, I have no idea really. I don't have too many people willing to talk about it that really knows what happened. So here is my version.) The doctors decided to go in and remove it rather than drain it. From my understanding, the surgery went just fine, it was in recovery where it got rough. She had the surgery on Monday. While in recovery, she was having trouble breathing and they had to put her on oxygen, she developed pnenouma. Thurday night we went up there to see her. I really hat myself for this, but I spend the entire evening sitting on the empty bed in her room watching TV. I thought it was so awesome because they had cable. We left, I gave her a hug and a kiss and told her I loved her and we went home. Friday, I went to school like normal. I remember standing in line for lunch and from some reason had a random thought and asked myself, "What would life be like if Mom wasn't around?" Then I thought well that's a stupid question, why am I thinking that. So I went about my day and when I got home, I walked in the house and somethin didn't feel right. I checked the messages and there were a few from my aunt Lori and a few from my uncle Stanton asking us to call the hospital when we got home. My brother was still at school, I got earlier on Fridays. I got a hold of my aunt, she told me she was coming to get me. She picked my up and we picked my brother up from the High School and headed to the hospital. The whole time there was something erie about everthing, but no one was really saying anything. We got into the elevator and went up, the doors opened, my dad was standing there. We started walking down the hall. My dad was telling us what had happened that day with Mom. "She was struggling to breathe, they tried to everyhing they could to help her. I told her it wasn't in her cards today to leave. But it wasn't enough. She didn't make it." I crumpled to the floor sobbing. My mommy had died on Friday, May 7, 1999 around 12:30pm. From that very moment on, my life would never ever be remotely close to the same.
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