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Coping with mother's death

by Sienna Dalton
Lowell High School, San Francisco

My mother died on Sept. 22, 1995 but her soul died long before that.

On Dec. 16, 1992 my mother entered the hospital to have her gallbladder removed but little did I know that would be the healthiest I would ever see my mother. Kaiser Hospital, whom I will never trust again, did in fact remove my mother's gallbladder but ended up slicing her intestine as well. "Ooops" is what the doctors and nurses said. "Don't worry I'm sure she'll be fine." Yeah right, two months in intensive care and several surgeries later she was still struggling to survive. One of the many things that I resent my family for is not letting me see her sooner. Two months after hearing horror stories my sister and I were finally allowed to see her.

Neither the stories nor the whispers I'd heard about my mother's appearance could have prepared me for what I was about to see. Her once full-figured body had dropped to a mere 150 pounds and would later drop to 90 pounds. Tubes, needles, monitors and everything else hospitals make was either in her or around her. Her glasses, which once seemed to look natural on her face, now seemed to clutter it. But I smiled with everybody else and said how good she looked. I thought she wouldn't know that I was skeptical of her survival. But she knew -- she's my mother.

Although I would like to say my mother died of the damage that Kaiser did to her it wasn't. My mother died of cancer, but the damage that Kaiser did made the struggle to survive harder.

The night before my mother passed away one of my aunts came to my sister and I and said, "Your mother has one week left." How are you supposed to react to something like that? When someone that you love has one week left you just go numb. That was the hardest thing I had to accept in my whole life. When my mother was diagnosed with cancer I refused to believe she would die any time soon. When she began to lose her memory along with her weight I still refused to believe it. But now I had no choice, I had to believe it.

The next day, not a week later, my mother passed away and what took place that day I will never in my life be able to forgive anyone for.

That morning I was sent to school. I was the one who she asked for the night before she died and I was being sent to school. At the time I was not aware that was her last day, so I went to school like any other day. What I will never be able to forgive anyone for is the fact that everyone but me knew it was her last day. They informed my sister and allowed her and my younger brother to stay home. Everyone but me was able to be with her. They were able to pay their last respects and be with her as she took her last breath. Everyone but me! How anyone could be so deceitful and insensitive, I will never know.

Once the funeral came it hit me that she was dead. There was no outfit to shop for. No one to call and tell the news. There was no rosary to go to -- it was the end.

I often think about the things that she will miss. My prom, my wedding, her grand children ... but there is nothing I can do. Nothing will bring her back.

Sometimes people come up to me and tell me stories about how their friend's parents died and say they understand. They don't, no on will ever understand. Or sometimes they will ask me for my advice. I don't know what advice to give to anyone. Everyone reacts differently. I wish I could say that the pain will go away in time but it's almost a year later and it still hurts. I guess nothing will help but time.