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I don't know why I'm posting this. My own way of getting it off my chest, or coping. I'm not generally an overly emotional person so I guess it is what it is.
I was woken up around 8:00AM this morning by my brother calling me. I looked and saw who it was and hit ignore. He was probably calling me for a ride somewhere or something cause his van has been acting up. Needless to say, I was not thrilled. I'm not a morning person simply because my work schedule has me up late at night. He called again. I hit ignore again. This went on for 5 more minutes. I kept thinking if it's that damn important leave a frigging voice mail. Finally he called Roses phone. She answered, slightly perturbed. She shot up in bed. "where are you.. What? What do you mean?.." by now I was awake and wondering WTF was going on. She handed me the phone. My brother then proceeded to tell me that my 57 year old mother, who has had health problems for some time, but nothing so serious as to result in this, had died. My step dad had gotten up for work and tried to wake her. But she was gone. Passed away sometime in the early morning in her sleep. I was still somewhat groggy and at first started swearing at him telling him he was full of you know what. But he broke down, and then I knew that this was no sick joke, no mistake or misinformation. I got up and paced around the house, struggling with my emotions. As I said, I'm not the most emotive person in the world. But there was a feeling welling inside me that I had not experienced in so long I honestly didn't know what it was. And then it exploded out of me like a volcano. Utter complete overwhelming sorrow.
I pulled myself together and got dressed and got my gear on and rode over to my parents house. My stepdad was standing outside with my brother. I pulled my gear off and asked what was going on. Bob (my stepdad) was pretty stoic. " I don't know what happened Josh. The coroner said he wasn't coming out, ruled it natural causes. We are waiting on the funeral home to call us back."
My brother looked rough. I was still in shock I guess. Still not believing this.
"where? Where is she??"
" In the house"
I looked toward the front door. Through that door was the earthly remains of the woman that gave birth to me. We hadn't always gotten along. There were a few times in my life where we didn't speak for months or even years. She was far from a perfect person, far from the mother of the year. But in recent years our relationship had gotten better. She had gotten better. Less of the horrible things that drove a wedge between us. She and Rose hadn't always been the best of friends. Our early relationship left my mother feeling as though Rose had taken her first born away from her I suppose. When Rose and I got back together, and I asked her to marry me, my mother finally decided that Rose indeed make me happy. And that's all she wanted. Their relationship was quite a bit better this time around. But, despite all of this, all the fights and lies and bad things she had done, the years at a time of not speaking, she was still my mother. She loved me, though sometimes didn't show it in the best ways. And I loved her. I never imagined in a million years that she would be gone so soon. I wasn't ready. I didn't get to say goodbye. Our last conversation consisted of talking about the MotoGp race and whether or not my dog (who she and my stepdad had babysat for the weekend) had fleas when I came to pick her up and take her home.
I steeled myself as best I could and slowly, regretfully trudged up the stairs to the front door. I opened it and stepped inside. She was still there. Bob had covered her face with a sheet. This is not real. I kept telling myself that. Any moment she is going to sit up and everything is going to be ok. I had often come over to find her napping on the couch. She had MS, and on and off struggled with it. Once a week she had to take an injection, and it usually left her pretty out of it for a day or so. This was just like then. Right?
The screen door slammed behind me. I turned to see my brother. "I don't know man..." he said shaking his head. Then he lost it. I hugged him tight, again, a bit of an odd thing for me. Except for Rose, I'm not real big on touching or being touched in affectionate manors. A point my mother used to harp on me about constantly. "I'm your mother. I gave birth to you after 36 hours of labor. The least you can do is let me hug/kiss you". He began sobbing uncontrollably, and then I too was overcome. We both cried for a few minutes. Then I took a deep breath, patted him on the back and tried to regain my composure. I didn't need to be in the house right now. I needed air. I walked outside, and my parents friends Mel and Jenny, and the neighbours were out front. They gave me a sad wave. I waved back and starts walking down the street. The funeral home had pulled up and seeing them load my mothers body into the van would be more than I could allow myself to handle at the moment. I walked. I don't even remember walking that far, I was numb, and memories and confusing emotions were flooding my brain. I looked up and realized that I'd walked three city blocks. I turned back. I needed to remain strong, for my brother, for Bob. He had t displayed much outpouring of emotion. Yet. I got about half way back and saw that Bob had actually walked out to the corner... I assume to check on me. He saw me and turned back to the house.
When I got back to the house, the funeral home had left and the couch was empty. Bob was busying himself with taking care of the blankets that were on the couch she had been laying on. He scurried around, somewhat absent mindedly.
My voice cracked as I began to ask him about arrangements. Finally he stopped. "well, she didn't have any life insurance, so I'm going to have to pay for it. You know she wanted to be cremated, but how big of a memorial service or whatever I will leave for you and Joe (my brother) to decide."
" nothing fancy" we both replied " you know her, she didn't like people doting over her"
"yeah.." Bob said, his eyes were now welling with tears.
" it's just important that we all stick together. Right now, and in the future" he said. Now the tears were rolling. Bob had married my mother 12 or 13 years ago. At first I didn't know what to think, but since, he and I and Joe and my baby brother John (who is in prison at the moment, and still doesn't know his mother has passed away) had grown quite close. Bob was always there for us. Now we would be there for him.
"we're not going anywhere Poppy ( I never called him dad, because he wasn't my dad, but Poppy was my term of affection for him, and also what Rose son Gabe called him when he was a little little guy) we are family, and we stick together.
We've sat now for a couple hours, talking, remembering, consoling eachother and blowing our snotty nose. My brother volunteered to drive down and see our grandmother and to tell her that she's outlived her oldest child. That impressed me greatly. Joe had always been sort of flighty. Kind of flaky at times. But the last year or so, I've watched him slowly start to pull himself together and become a man. That he would take this heartbreaking, amazingly difficult task on himself only proved to solidfy my assesment of his new character.
Tomorrow, I go to sign papers releasing the funeral home to follow through on the cremation. I don't know how I will feel. I really don't know how I feel now. It's been roughly 6 hours since I found out that my mom is gone. It's been a rough six hours. I hope that I am still sleeping,but I know that I am not.
Rest in Peace mom. I love you and I always will. We will see eachother again some day.
Deborah Leisten Seale
14 November 1953- 1 September 2010.
I was woken up around 8:00AM this morning by my brother calling me. I looked and saw who it was and hit ignore. He was probably calling me for a ride somewhere or something cause his van has been acting up. Needless to say, I was not thrilled. I'm not a morning person simply because my work schedule has me up late at night. He called again. I hit ignore again. This went on for 5 more minutes. I kept thinking if it's that damn important leave a frigging voice mail. Finally he called Roses phone. She answered, slightly perturbed. She shot up in bed. "where are you.. What? What do you mean?.." by now I was awake and wondering WTF was going on. She handed me the phone. My brother then proceeded to tell me that my 57 year old mother, who has had health problems for some time, but nothing so serious as to result in this, had died. My step dad had gotten up for work and tried to wake her. But she was gone. Passed away sometime in the early morning in her sleep. I was still somewhat groggy and at first started swearing at him telling him he was full of you know what. But he broke down, and then I knew that this was no sick joke, no mistake or misinformation. I got up and paced around the house, struggling with my emotions. As I said, I'm not the most emotive person in the world. But there was a feeling welling inside me that I had not experienced in so long I honestly didn't know what it was. And then it exploded out of me like a volcano. Utter complete overwhelming sorrow.
I pulled myself together and got dressed and got my gear on and rode over to my parents house. My stepdad was standing outside with my brother. I pulled my gear off and asked what was going on. Bob (my stepdad) was pretty stoic. " I don't know what happened Josh. The coroner said he wasn't coming out, ruled it natural causes. We are waiting on the funeral home to call us back."
My brother looked rough. I was still in shock I guess. Still not believing this.
"where? Where is she??"
" In the house"
I looked toward the front door. Through that door was the earthly remains of the woman that gave birth to me. We hadn't always gotten along. There were a few times in my life where we didn't speak for months or even years. She was far from a perfect person, far from the mother of the year. But in recent years our relationship had gotten better. She had gotten better. Less of the horrible things that drove a wedge between us. She and Rose hadn't always been the best of friends. Our early relationship left my mother feeling as though Rose had taken her first born away from her I suppose. When Rose and I got back together, and I asked her to marry me, my mother finally decided that Rose indeed make me happy. And that's all she wanted. Their relationship was quite a bit better this time around. But, despite all of this, all the fights and lies and bad things she had done, the years at a time of not speaking, she was still my mother. She loved me, though sometimes didn't show it in the best ways. And I loved her. I never imagined in a million years that she would be gone so soon. I wasn't ready. I didn't get to say goodbye. Our last conversation consisted of talking about the MotoGp race and whether or not my dog (who she and my stepdad had babysat for the weekend) had fleas when I came to pick her up and take her home.
I steeled myself as best I could and slowly, regretfully trudged up the stairs to the front door. I opened it and stepped inside. She was still there. Bob had covered her face with a sheet. This is not real. I kept telling myself that. Any moment she is going to sit up and everything is going to be ok. I had often come over to find her napping on the couch. She had MS, and on and off struggled with it. Once a week she had to take an injection, and it usually left her pretty out of it for a day or so. This was just like then. Right?
The screen door slammed behind me. I turned to see my brother. "I don't know man..." he said shaking his head. Then he lost it. I hugged him tight, again, a bit of an odd thing for me. Except for Rose, I'm not real big on touching or being touched in affectionate manors. A point my mother used to harp on me about constantly. "I'm your mother. I gave birth to you after 36 hours of labor. The least you can do is let me hug/kiss you". He began sobbing uncontrollably, and then I too was overcome. We both cried for a few minutes. Then I took a deep breath, patted him on the back and tried to regain my composure. I didn't need to be in the house right now. I needed air. I walked outside, and my parents friends Mel and Jenny, and the neighbours were out front. They gave me a sad wave. I waved back and starts walking down the street. The funeral home had pulled up and seeing them load my mothers body into the van would be more than I could allow myself to handle at the moment. I walked. I don't even remember walking that far, I was numb, and memories and confusing emotions were flooding my brain. I looked up and realized that I'd walked three city blocks. I turned back. I needed to remain strong, for my brother, for Bob. He had t displayed much outpouring of emotion. Yet. I got about half way back and saw that Bob had actually walked out to the corner... I assume to check on me. He saw me and turned back to the house.
When I got back to the house, the funeral home had left and the couch was empty. Bob was busying himself with taking care of the blankets that were on the couch she had been laying on. He scurried around, somewhat absent mindedly.
My voice cracked as I began to ask him about arrangements. Finally he stopped. "well, she didn't have any life insurance, so I'm going to have to pay for it. You know she wanted to be cremated, but how big of a memorial service or whatever I will leave for you and Joe (my brother) to decide."
" nothing fancy" we both replied " you know her, she didn't like people doting over her"
"yeah.." Bob said, his eyes were now welling with tears.
" it's just important that we all stick together. Right now, and in the future" he said. Now the tears were rolling. Bob had married my mother 12 or 13 years ago. At first I didn't know what to think, but since, he and I and Joe and my baby brother John (who is in prison at the moment, and still doesn't know his mother has passed away) had grown quite close. Bob was always there for us. Now we would be there for him.
"we're not going anywhere Poppy ( I never called him dad, because he wasn't my dad, but Poppy was my term of affection for him, and also what Rose son Gabe called him when he was a little little guy) we are family, and we stick together.
We've sat now for a couple hours, talking, remembering, consoling eachother and blowing our snotty nose. My brother volunteered to drive down and see our grandmother and to tell her that she's outlived her oldest child. That impressed me greatly. Joe had always been sort of flighty. Kind of flaky at times. But the last year or so, I've watched him slowly start to pull himself together and become a man. That he would take this heartbreaking, amazingly difficult task on himself only proved to solidfy my assesment of his new character.
Tomorrow, I go to sign papers releasing the funeral home to follow through on the cremation. I don't know how I will feel. I really don't know how I feel now. It's been roughly 6 hours since I found out that my mom is gone. It's been a rough six hours. I hope that I am still sleeping,but I know that I am not.
Rest in Peace mom. I love you and I always will. We will see eachother again some day.
Deborah Leisten Seale
14 November 1953- 1 September 2010.
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