With Love From Kayla.

Today I am thankful for memories. I am thankful for moments that can live forever via a picture or video, I am thankful for words which are carved in my heart. I am thankful for the bond a parent has with a child, timeless and indescribable. Today I am thankful for my Mother, Betty.

2 years ago at this exact moment, my life was fine. It was a Saturday. I was contemplating going to a car show downtown but couldn’t quite decide. I had dinner plans that evening with my in-laws at a restaurant I was excited to try.  I remember calling to see if my book of wedding pictures was ready to be picked up yet – I had been married for 2 weeks and 1 day. At 12:30 p.m. on January 30, 2010 life was as it had been, my Mother and Father were 10 minutes down the road and all was well. 6 hours later however, I was sitting in a cold empty room right inside the emergency wing of the hospital waiting for a doctor to come in and speak to us. My Father was babbling incoherently and I was simply numb. His words fell upon deaf ears; I couldn’t begin to tell you the thoughts that were running through my head. Those 5 minutes felt like a lifetime. A nurse accompanied a doctor into the room and they asked questions, God there were so many questions. Not once was I informed of her current state, it was just implied. I was to assume my Mother didn’t make it. That was probably the worst part, I just wanted him to say it, to tell me that she was gone, that he was sitting here badgering us about the days events because she hadn’t made it. Instead he calmly asked me if I had picked out a funeral home. This was an everyday thing for him, it’s the circle of life, people are born in that hospital everyday and sadly people die in that same hospital. To him, this was a normal evening; I will never understand the lack of compassion coming from that room. This was not standard to me, this was my Mother, the woman I had depended on for 19 years, the woman that 3 days earlier I was kissing goodbye as I pulled out of her driveway. What funeral home had I picked?! What kind of question is that in this situation?! I had to fight back the urge to inform him that I didn’t know because I hadn’t exactly brought my bag of funeral home brochures he seemed to think I had lying around. I answered all of his questions, I signed all of the papers, calmly and quietly – and then I had to make the phone calls. Out of the whole ordeal that was the worst part, calling her Sister…so far away, and all I could do was try to say it as easy as possible. There’s just no breaking that fall though. My heart ached, I had just lost a huge part of me but all I wanted to do was make everyone else okay. I didn’t want my brother to hurt; I didn’t want my Dad to be alone. I wanted to hug my best friend, to hear her tell me it was going to be okay. January 30, 2010 is not a blur to me as I wish it was. I remember every second. From the moment I got the phone call until Amber left after coming over at 1 a.m. because I just couldn’t sleep. I remember the calls from the Medical Examiner. Sometimes I wish I could forget…just forget the whole ordeal. I even pretend that she’s still a phone call away…just one left turn over the tracks. That she’s laying in bed watching Court TV and that if I wanted I could curl up next to her. It really is hard to lose a parent, I had always thought about what it would be like, I knew it would hurt but until it happens you really don’t know just how much it hurts. That day, I became an adult. There was no more uncertainty in my decisions; there was no more having someone there to hold my hand. It was now my turn to be her, to comfort my brother, to make sure my father was okay…to take care of me. At her funeral, I got up and spoke. My family had mixed feelings about it, they thought it would be too hard on me…my Father thought I wasn’t grieving. It wasn’t hard, but it did hurt to stand in front of a room full of puffy red eyes and broken hearts knowing that everyone there was patiently waiting for me to speak…for me to break down. I didn’t. I was solid as a rock. My message was short and it was clear: Always let someone know how much you love them and how much you care. It was simple…perhaps even worthy of a smile. I knew my Mother loved me, that she was proud of me and I wanted to make sure everyone in that room knew how important it is to share things with the ones you love because even though she was gone and it hurt, I had that peace in my heart and it will be with me forever. So again I leave you with this, never assume someone knows how you feel, tell them every chance you get because you never know what’s going to happen. You’re going to get angry at each other, but don’t stay that way, life is too short to sweat the small stuff. Say I love you every time you part; tell someone you’re proud of them, that you’re lucky to have them in your life. It may seem silly but in the end it really does mean the world. Tomorrows are never promised so always make the best of today and count your blessings because you are so, so lucky to have time with the ones you love. Do me a favor: never take your parents for granted. If I could go back and do it all over I would be angry less and I would love more.  I would take more pictures, invite her over for dinner more often…make her cakes on her birthday, hug her every time she was within arm’s reach. I would tell her how much I loved her and needed her…how much she meant to me and how lucky I was to have her as my Mother. I can’t go back…but that doesn’t mean you can’t start.

To My Mommy,

With Love From Kayla