Keeping My word.

Keeping My word.

I gave my word to Momma. She was terrified of doctors. She had a right to be. When she was pregnant with her third child, Phyllis, she became concerned that something was wrong. She was carrying a bucked of water from the well and dad was angry at her. He should have been the one getting the water. He instead went after her about something and shoved her down the hill.
Momma didn’t feel well after that.
She knew something was wrong. She called her doctor in fear for her baby. They didn’t listen to her cries of help. A week later they decided to take her into the hospital. A dark, cold and lonely place. They told there was no heart beat and induced labor. The smell was horrendous. The cord was wrapped around the babies ankle. She never forgot how awful that was. They treated her like she had done something wrong. It was horrible. She was rapped in stripes of sheets. They did that in those days to keep the tummy flat. She felt lost and lonely. She didn’t think anyone cared. From that day on she never trusted medical staff ever again.

When she was older and ill I would drive to Redwood City which took and hour and twenty minutes and pick her up, to bring her back to my house in Tracy, CA. One hour and fifteen minutes one way. I loved bringing her home. Even thought usually it was serious, because she never told me she was sick until the last minute. I took her to our doctor and stayed with her the whole time. I promised her that I would be there, right to the end. No matter what, she would never be alone in a hospital or doctors office again.

Little did I realize how that would impact me. The time came and her emphysema was taking her from us. I called the ambulance and we went to the emergency room in Redwood City. They informed me that this was it. They took her to where she could pass away in peace. I stood beside her and rubbed her forehead. I remember thinking as tears ran down my face. No one can ever hurt her again. I looked at all the scares dad forced on her. She was sleeping now. My little sister Tere, who is twenty years younger, had to go back to her babies. I prayed that God would forgive mom for all her sins and accept her in heaven. Then I realized maybe I didn’t have that right since I attend very little church. I do believe in God with all my heart. I then reassured myself, I am a child of the of the Lord and it would be all right. Watching her body thrash about was so hard. I walked over to the wall by the door and yelled. “Someone get in here, help her!” No one came right away. They new more than I did. I then cried with all my heart. I wanted her back. It’s hard to realize that it was over. That never, never again will we see that smile or hear her radiant laughter. I kept my word. I did what I had promised. I did all I could to be sure I did everything in my power to always keep her comfortable. She worked so hard all by herself to raise all of her children the best she knew how. I always tried to return all her love and devotion.

I have kept her ashes with me for thirteen years. When my brother. who is a year younger than I, died almost two years ago, I decided it was time to place them in the ground. The first few months without her here was like grieving all over again. I was used to go to her, on her birthday, Mother’s Day and Christmas. I’d tell her I loved her. When these special days came and I ‘d opened the closet where I kept her in a beautiful Christmas bag. Now she was gone. Really gone. I will always love her and miss her more than life. She passed away at 62. She use to say smoking gave her such pleasure. I am so glad I never ever tried. It only caused me pain.