The Aftermath

 Life goes on.  No matter who dies... your life continues.  This was not something I was willing or able to accept.  Not just consciously but subconsciously as well.

There were times when I would pick up the phone to call my mom, quickly realizing she would not be on the other end to answer.  When she was alive, I called her every-other-day.  Now, I wish I would have called her 3 or 4 times a day, everyday.

One instance really stands out at me, and always will.  My mother worked for 'Value City' department stores all of my life.  The particular store she worked at closed, just as she was retiring.  She was so happy when she retired (only 2 months before she died...pretty unfair.)  My mom loved to gossip about the store, people who worked there, and the store chain in general.  She was certain all 'Value Citiy' stores would be closing.  A week or so after her death, I was driving to the 'Target' in Dover.  On the way is a 'Value City' store.  Well, that particular day, the 'Value City' store displayed a huge yellow and red sign: "Going Out Of Business."  When I read the sign, I chuckled to myself and thought; 'wait until I tell my mom this!'  Then, the realization came that I wouldn't be doing that.  At that moment I felt as though I had been thrown off of a ten story building.  I felt cold and numb inside, every limb in my body felt like it was 'asleep.'  All the blood flushed from my face.  I felt lifeless, but yet I was in so much pain.  The feelings were pretty indescribable.  Quickly, I had to compose myself, as my daughter was with me.  But, if it wasn't for Abigail, I probably would have driven off of the road and God knows what would have happened.

I became very depressed, especially when talking to or visiting my father.  But above all else, I was angry.  Angry at the hospital for not taking care of her properly.  Angry at her doctor for failing to tell her to go to the hospital earlier.  Angry at 'Value City' for over working her.  Most of all, I was angry at myself for not being stronger.  I was even angry with God.  I believed God got it wrong and took her too soon.  My anger with God grew as I waited for some kind of sign that my mother was okay.  A sign that she was in heaven... A sign that there even was a heaven.

Growing up under strict Catholicism, I went to church EVERY weekend since I was 4 years old.  I was taught to believe in God and Jesus, and I never had a doubt in my mind until my mother died.  I prayed constantly for some kind of sign... but I never got one.

If there is no God and no heaven, what point is there in living?  Slowly, my belief and faith in God returned...thanks to Abigail.  My daughter is the most beautiful, precious being on this planet.  When I was sad about my mom, Abby would come up to me, put her hand on my shoulder and say "Don't cry, mommy.  Mommom is with the angels now."  My mom always said "everything happens for a reason."  My pregnancy with Abigail was surely a surprise...but Abby is my reason.  She is the reason I'm still alive and the reason I keep on living.  I know there is a God, because if there wasn't, I wouldn't be graced with the angel that is my daughter.

Time heals most wounds.  Life does go on.  I still miss my mom more than words can say.  She was my sanity, my strength, and my biggest fan.  She always believed that I could do anything.  I'm doing what I can to make her proud.  I think of her every day.  Sometimes I cry, but mostly I smile because of all the happy memories.

The memory of my mother.  My mother who is now with God, Jesus, and the Angels.  My daughter believes it and so do I.