Mom Had a Major Aneurism in the Base of Her Brain

My mom passed — a total loss, not only of Mom but of my blood family (things I did for my mom and family were all forgotten).

This was during the Memorial Day parade. She was fine at that moment in time. She did everything she always did on this day. However, the very next day she wasn’t feeling good, so she called out to my nephew, who lived with her, and told him to call 911 because something was wrong. When the ambulance arrived, Mom wasn’t doing well at all. They called for a helicopter to take her to Stony Brook Hospital. This method worked really well when someone was in need of instant transport. I then called my brothers and sisters to inform them she was being taken to the hospital. After I arrived at the hospital and spoke to the doctors, the prognosis wasn’t good, and I was advised to notify the family. So I called them back, suggesting they should come if at all possible.

When I arrived at the hospital and informed them that I was her proxy, one of the doctors approached me, asking if they could drill a hole in her skull to alleviate the pressure of the blood from her brain. I inquired if it would help her prognosis, and they said no. So my response was, “Why? Moreover, Mom wouldn’t want her hair messed up.” She always took pride in her hair. Since the procedure wasn’t going to help improve her condition, I declined.

The next morning, my siblings arrived, and a doctor came to the room where we were all waiting. She introduced herself and delivered the grim news: Mom only had hours, maybe days, left. This was a profoundly challenging period, and I hadn’t revisited this book until just this last week, nearly four years later. In losing my mom, I felt as if I’d lost most of my family. That’s why there aren’t many names mentioned, but that’s okay. I lived just around the corner, about half a mile away from the house I grew up in. I had these precious years one-on-one with my mom. I still have my brother Norman and my two stepsisters, Martha and Chris. As far as I’m concerned, they are my true sisters. However, they live a distance away, and I don’t get to see them often.

(Photo caption: Mom and a couple who were her friends.)

Before the service, I saw the old fire truck sitting outside, and Hap Jr. was standing next to it. It was hard seeing all the men in uniform from the fire department there. I have been to many funerals, but I was always on the other side. I walked up to Hap Jr., and he said to me, “I brought your dad’s truck here for your mom.” He told me he was a teenager when my dad died, and he wanted to bring up his truck. We talked for a short time, and then it was time for them to go into the church before the family.

At Mom’s funeral, I spoke, and after I was done, the minister asked if there was anyone else who wanted to say something. My sister Martha raised her hand, and she gave a really nice story about joining our family. I spoke to Chris during the reception, and she said she was going to say something also, but Martha had wrapped it all up really well.

Family is such a hard thing to talk about, for my two stepsisters were here for me. They both offered me to come stay with them if I needed to. That will always be in my heart. That is a true sign of family, as far as I’m concerned.

(Photo caption: A special thanks to my two sisters, Chris and Martha. On diving board from left to right: me, Chris, and Martha.)