Death of a Dearly Beloved

I released his shirt from my light grip and slinked into my room. I saw my mother, still laying there, not moving an inch. I moved up onto the bed and gently shoved her. She would not move. I started panicking a bit, thinking she was still sleeping. I felt her chest where her heart was for some kind of pulse or sign of life to calm my worked up self. She was stone cold and lifeless. I started tearing, unable to speak any sort of sound or noise. Running back into the main room, I peeked outside from the door that was cracked open. There were two police cars, an ambulance, and a very panicky Bill explaining the situation to the cops. I snuck out of the house and walked up to him, my mind full of questions and hopefully soon, the truth. “Bill, what’s happening?” I squeaked out of my throat. He and the two cops turned to me, they sighed, and Bill bent down to my eyesight and sighed heavily. “Your mom passed away last night.” He said in a depressed yet hushed tone. I could feel my heart being ripped in two from those very words that would haunt me for the rest of my life. From behind, two emergency doctors came out of the house with a stretcher; I could tell right then and there that was her, the very being who I loved for so long. My mother. I felt like the entire world was circling me; I had so many emotions in me, I felt light headed. They hauled the stretcher into the ambulance and shut the doors. I was unable to restrict my actions, and I bolted to the door, pounding on them. Bill ran up behind me and yanked me away, holding me in his burly arms. I must have made a new ocean for all the tears I cried that day. Bill set me down on the road, watching with me as the ambulance drove away in haste. The cops pulled Bill to the side to try and comprehend what was going on. He explained to them I was the deceased woman’s daughter, and we were here to visit him. The cop nodded as he wrote this information down, and left with his partner. The rest of these events were a haze, the last I remember was Bill driving me home with our suitcases and dropping me off back home. He had to explain the situation to my grandmother, which left her in tears. I could tell she was upset, finally knowing her youngest daughter has now passed on from life. She picked me up and Bill hauled the suitcases inside the house, and drove back home.

These memories still come to haunt me to this day, but in the end, I come to the realization of a simple statement. If my mother never died, I would not be where I am today. It might be a heartless thing to say, but it’s true. Maybe her death was fate and destiny. Maybe my mother’s death was required for me to learn a valuable lesson: You can’t hold on to the past forever, you must let go and move on. To this day, I still look back on the event, trying to comprehend why this happened; but all I know is, she’s still there, watching over me, like as if she was still alive.

(Author's notes: This event happened almost a decade ago, and it still makes a mark in my heart. 

Thank you for taking the time to read the most memorable event in my life.)

The End

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