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The day will be tatooed upon my memory for the rest of my life. January 14, 1983. There are some things that an eighteen year old woman should not have to deal with. To be told by a gesture from an older woman who had no reason to be present, that your mother is no longer of this world, is one of those things.
As the elevator doors opened to the scene, I was presented with my step-grandmother's face, her hand holding the phone to her ear as she told the whole countryside (gleefully) that my mother had died. I could not hear her voice, but I could tell from her expression what was being said. As I stepped from the elevator, her eyes met mine and she shook her head telling me all I needed to know. I stepped back onto the lift and pushed the button for the first floor.
My head was whirling as I exited the building. How could this have happened? I wanted my mom badly. I was not prepared for such a terrible tragedy, and I could not think straight. It seemed that only yesterday my mother was combing my hair for me and kissing that little spot on my forehead, and now I would never see her smiling face again.
"Run and play, Pumpkin", my mother said, as she finished tying my shoes. I was five. As I ran from the room, I turned to look back at the woman I called "Mom". Her hair was long, thick and straight, and sometimes people thought she was an Indian. Us kids thought that funny because we couldn't picture mom with feathers in her hair. We took her for granted, but what little kid wouldn't?
"Happy birthday, Sweetheart", my mom said as she beamed proudly. I was sixteen. I looked at the cake she had baked for me, and thanked her. It was chocolate, my favorite. I took her for granted, she was only thirty seven and would be around forever.
"My God, my baby is graduating", my mother cried as she hugged me tightly. I was her only child to graduate from high school and I don't know who was prouder. I took her for granted as she adjusted my cap and gown for a picture, I knew she'd be there for my wedding and the birth of my children, and....
"Honey, could you buy me some antacids?" my mom asked me as I was heading to the store. I wasn't to know at that time that what mom thought was indigestion was actually a serious ailment that would kill her within four days. I took for granted that all she had was an upset stomach.
"Sure Mom, anything else?" I asked, smiling at her as I had one foot out of
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Memoirs: Death of a parent
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