Mom
Posted at 12:01 AM

Thursday, Aug. 14, 2008
She passed away this morning in her sleep at Maluhia, the nursing home/hospital she's been at for a few months.


My phone was ringing early in the morning, but I ignored it. I dunno why. I was pissed maybe somebody would call so often but I think deep down I was afraid of the truth. My dad died in the middle of the night in a hospital and the phone rang at 2 am.

I talked to my brother first, since he was the first name on my phone for received calls. He couldn't say what happened before he started crying. He's up on the mainland with his family, en route to New York to have a specialist look at his daughter.

I didn't cry right away. I called my sister, she told me what happened, said we have to meet at a mortuary downtown this afternoon.

I have been sick for five weeks and quarantined myself from my mom and that hospital. Now I *#$! wish I'd just gone in as much as I wanted with or without a nasal drip and coughing. I was on my bed and everything just froze inside me. I was pizzed at the hospital but more at myself. Everything kicked in and I didn't know if I was crying out of anger or guilt or the fact that she'll never talk to me again. I don't know if she knew I couldn't see her because of this #$%* cold or not.

My mom was losing more and more of her mind, my sister said, just not aware of things. But whenever I would visit, she was usually sharp enough. She'd say she knew her brain out "turn off" sometimes. It was frustrating for her. She'd eat more when I was there. I mean, she eats more any time someone is there to push her along in case she forgot to keep eating. But the nurses there aren't normally like that. They just put the tray of food on her bed and walk away.

That's why I feel like she would've been better off at home, at my sister's house, at least this summer. I would've been there every day. I would've made sure she ate. But then there is no one around to do that once school starts and I have to work nights.

There's a lot of frikkin guilt involved. The only way I can get it out is to write. I can't even talk right now. I called my supervisor a few minutes ago and it was too hard.

I just wish I could've talked with her one last time. I went from changing her clothes and kissing her good night most nights to her moving to a lame hospital and not seeing her for a month. I gotta deal with that.

She's not suffering any more. But I still needed her. It was too soon.

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