I lost my mom that January on the 7th. That morning we started off the day at the doctors office. Not for her, but for me. That morning we got to hear my mom's first grand baby for the first time. We started crying when we heard the heart beat from happiness. We went home and my mom showed anyone who would listen. Our last day was a really good day. My mom, my dad, my sister, and I were so happy that day. When I got home, my dad was making steaks. My mom was asleep tired from her day at work. My sister was asleep also. First thing I went to do was sit by my moms bed and talk to her about the baby because Iwas so excited. She tried to talk to me but she was so sleepy. I left her alone. About 30 minutes later, I'm trying to sleep and she comes and says she's going to take a shower and then she's going to go eat steak. 5 minutes later, I heard the thump. I got up slowly thinking she had dropped somthing in the shower. But I don't know why that sound that was pretty usual scared me. My dad made it there first. My mom had fallen. And she hit her head on the side of the shower. Suddenly, my mom started seizing up. She bit her own tongue. And finally she stopped breathing. All while the ambulance couldn't find my house. I'll never forget sobbing into the phone, begging them to find us. I'll never forgot my dad and sister crying, begging her to wake up. And screaming once they'd gotten there and they moved so slowly. They had given up on my mom before they ever began. She died on January 7th and every moment since then, I close my eyes and I see her in the coffin. And some times, times I especially hate, I see her purple face. I thought that when I slept, I'd wake up and forget and need to be reminded. And somehow I think what actually happened is worse. Every morning, I wake up and my first thought is that my mom is gone. I have not even one second of feeling okay. My mom was the strongest person I knew. She was what made us strong. I was with my mom every single day. And the rare days I wasn't, I'd call her often. And I know if I'm hurting, my sister is hurting more, which is hard to admit, My sister and my mom were best friends. They were the same person and they spent every waking moment together. And I'm so thankful to my dad for stepping up and being the head of the house for us. But I can see that he's taking it just as hard. And he's not handling it as well.
Everytime I think of my baby, it makes me want to cry more. I should be so happy for my baby but I'm just so miserable because my mom was going to be the best grandma. She was already planning to babysit and to spoil the baby rotten. She was going to be my support during this process.
I just feel broken.
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