Death Certificate

I finally decided to sit down and go through the mail. It wasn’t my mail, it was my mom’s mail. They were all medical bills and condolences from hospital staff. Tucked in all that was my mom’s death certificate.
She left this world on December 17, 2009. She’s finally home with her dad and her mom.
Knowing that was one thing. Realizing it was another.
I cried when she died. I cried daily for a while. I’d hear, see, or smell something that reminded me of her and I’d cry. Not because of the sadness and the emptiness that I felt, but because of the memories. She was an extraordinary woman, and I knew that she wasn’t coming back, but there was always this small piece of me that felt everything my family was going through might have been a nightmare. We were going to wake up and she was going to be sitting in her favorite chair with her dog curled up in her lap.
Holding her death certificate in my hand, made reality set in. There it was in black & white. Her date of death, her time of death, and the cold hard fact that she was not coming back. I wasn’t going to wake from a dream or a nightmare. I was already awake. She wasn’t going to be sitting in her favorite chair anymore, but instead her ashes sit on a shelf with a picture of her smiling down on everyone.
It’s funny how a piece of paper makes a person feel. I’ve been crying off an on for a few hours now. I’m letting go. Not of her, but of the hope that I held in my heart that her death wasn’t real. It’s real and I know it. I just wanted to have a childhood fairy tale to hold onto. That my parents would just live forever. That they would always be here on Earth.
I miss her a lot today. I miss her smile and her laughter. I miss her saying “good night baby” to me.
I love you Mama & I’m dedicating the song that’s playing right now to you: “You’re My Star” by Stereophonics
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