I lie awake for most of the night before my Mother's wake. I woke up everyday that passed hoping that I was in a nightmare and that some how some way if I prayed hard enough that I would be able to turn back and change what had happened. I questioned God and my faith… I questioned my Mother and her love for me. I just couldn't get around it. I couldn't get it threw my head. I mean I prepped for it and made the decisions hoping that I would wake up from this horrible dream. But I never did.
I haven't seen my Mother since the day before she died. Not at the hospital not in the morgue. Everyone was already home by the time I got there, so seeing her in her casket would be the first time I had seen her in two weeks. It was the longest I had gone since I was born that I hadn't heard her voice. I woke up and took a shower and picked a dress out of her closet to wear. I wanted to be closer to her and I don't know why but I figured it would help me feel closer to her. It was her funeral dress and although my mother and I do not wear the same size I felt I needed it more than I needed to look nice. At the funeral home they allowed a few minutes for the family to be with her alone.
I was fine the whole day the whole time until we walked in that room and saw her. I broke down and I screamed "No" all over again. I wasn't ready to say good bye I wasn't ready to not have her. I just wasn't there and I never would be. I sat in the first row in front of her casket confusion. I put on a brave face but inside my heart was broken. I never loved anyone or anything as much as the person laid before me. I was upset with her for not staying for not waiting for me to say goodbye for not sticking to our plans. For not loving me enough to stay. My Mother was so strong I knew that she could have fought God but she just went with him and it killed my soul. I had one wish that entire day and that was to crawl into that casket and go with her. I looked so brave on the outside but that was because I didn't care anymore. Whether I lived or died no longer mattered to me and I wanted to latter, I prayed for the latter. I was upset with God because he took her, because he didn't let me say goodbye and because he didn't let me go with her. My Mother always let me go with her. I felt like she gave up and she wasn't suppose tot give up on me on us. So many friends and loved ones came that day and showed her support. So many coworkers came.
The funeral parlor estimated between 400-450 people came that day. It was a lovely service for a lovely woman. My best friends came Linda, Mari, and Monique. College friends came and showed support to myself and my family. It was a day I was proud of her and just wanted to hold her hand. It was the worst day in a line of horrible days. That night I came home and I laid down and took my sleeping aids and went to bed just to not have to think about what was waiting for me tomorrow.