A personal post

Even as I begin to write this, I am hesitant to continue. It's not for lack of trust in my readers, but this is just such a sensitive topic for me, so bare with me if I am a little vague with the details.

It will be 7 years this May. I had finished work the day before and stopped by my mother's house, across the road from my apartment, to see whether or not my ex and his friends had finished painting her living room. My ex, who was my boyfriend at the time, and his friends had finished up and headed out to the annual 420 rally that takes place in Toronto. She gave me some steaks, she had intended to bbq for the boys when they finished, and I headed home. I had no idea that that would be the last time I saw my mother alive.

The following morning, I ran over to her house to borrow some eggs, and when I entered the house, she was still in bed. My mother was plagued with many problems related to a back injury she suffered in her early 30's. It was rare for my mother to sleep that late in the morning, but I figured that after the strenuous work the day before, she may have been in pain and decided to try to sleep it off. I was almost to the door when I decided I would wake her and see if she needed anything before I left. If her back was indeed acting up, moving around may have been difficult for her.

A lot of things happened quickly after that. When I thought that she had passed away, I called my boyfriend over, somewhat delirious and told him what I suspected. Next I called 911. I don't really know why I did it in that order, other than the fact that I was scared I was right. Turns out, I was. When I knew it was real, I left the house, phone in hand, running for my apartment. I ran into my ex's friend along the way. I tossed the phone at him and kept going.

The rest of the day was filled with people dropping by and people yelling at me that I was lying, they couldn't accept the truth. The truth was my mother, at age 48, had passed in her sleep. I thought the why was important at the time, but it really wasn't. What was important was that she was gone, and I was on my own. I had always been independent, my mother had commented on it many times over the years, but I wasn't ready for that kind of independence.

I found myself lost. I joined some livejournal support groups for people who had lost their mothers, but I still felt out of place. Most of the people in the group had lost their mother's to cancer or another disease, whereas my mother had just slipped away. I shut myself in, ignored the door and phone, and just tried to breathe. Breathing felt like chore in itself at that point. I spent many days and nights crying into the fur of my trusty pitt bull Tequila.It was just the two of us, in little world.

I finally managed to get myself together. I rebuilt my life, and adjusted to the impact the event had on me. The only remnant being the fact that I was unable to handle massive changes in my life. When something happened, I would freak out a little first, then reasonably put it all together. I've managed to overcome this now, 7 years later. I can keep my cool when major things happen. I've even managed to cry again. I finally feel like I've come full circle, to a place where I can truly accept the things I have endured.

I do realize that when people hear my story, they feel bad for what I went through and really mean it when they say "I'm so sorry". Please reader, don't say your sorry for what I went though, just do me one favour. If your mother is still alive, whether you see eye to eye or not, give her a hug or pick up the phone and touch base. Trust me, you never know when she'll be gone and one day you may kick yourself for it.

For the record, I'm not much of an egg person anymore lol.