Coping with Death… Just the Beginning

One of the lines from Hamilton that stuck with me the hardest was when Gen. George Washington told Hamilton, “Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder.” He must not have watched someone die of cancer. My mother’s last three months were the roughest tribulation any human has gone through in my memory. Writing about the dying process will come at a later time but for right now, I’d like to spill the grief process out onto this page.

The moment my mother passed of Stromal Sarcoma, she had her full core group of people around that were there nearly every day towards the end. She started to show the final signs of dying late at night and we were able to call her best friend to drive over. My sister and nephew were staying the night as we had a late night watching over mom. When my step-dad heard her breathing heavily, we knew from previous research what was going on. Fast forward to the moment she passed..

We all understood fully what was happening. The plan was already set so we knew what had to be done. Phone calls were made to the hospice care and the funeral home. Her brother-in-law owns the funeral home so he was notified directly. Typically, the hospice will handle that phone call. Although I had just lost my best friend, I had work to do. Grief would have to come later. I kept telling myself these things happen.

The following few hours were eerie. I felt a void in my soul I’ve never felt before. Part of my heart was lost and I know I’ll never find it. Because it happened late night/early morning, we were all dead tired. The family began to head home and exhaustion kicked in. Time for the first nap without my mom in the world. Medina stayed up all day. I don’t blame him. Every small event felt like a milestone. First meal without her, first nap, everything without her in the house felt new.

If this were sudden or even if I didn’t have the chance to be there with her for so long, I’m not sure how I would have handled this. I relied a lot on my mother and spoke to her every day. We joked about how she was sticking around to make sure her family was doing ok. I still feel that was for the best, even if it meant the sacrifice of her comfort. I’m so thankful she was so damn strong. Yeah.. I mean of course we/she had her moments. I lived with her for eight months last year and boy can we butt heads sometimes. The resolve she showed though was something I will proudly carry in my mind for the rest of my life. I know that if she can go through what she did until we were finally ready to let her go, then I can tackle anything.

The week after her death, the house felt strange. We were all so used to taking care of her that we were still peeping into her bedroom to check on her like we had been doing for nearly two months. Funeral plans were more than taken care of as we had known this was coming for quite some time. She had become a full-time job; my most important job I’ve ever worked. I had to keep my head on straight and realize that she wouldn’t want me to spiral down or dwell on her death too much. I have to look straight ahead and set short and long-term goals for myself. That was the best decision I made. Setting priorities and keeping them on track.

The funeral itself was something of an event. Due to COVID, the burial had to take place on a third day so it felt like a procession. That was rough, but it still made it seem like a job that had to be done so the attention was still on her (something I’m sure she would have relished haha.) Having everyone there that was able to make it to the funeral was special. Friends and family from every stage of her life showed up and told wonderful stories from back in the day. I can’t explain how much of a relief it was to hear about her better days instead of imagining over and over how her last few months went. The funeral home did the most tremendous job getting her dolled up. I wanted to stare at her for hours. I did.

Victoria and I kept our minds busy by preparing for the trip back home. We spent the entire week cataloging every single thing we own in storage. I got the motorcycle in order and ready to ship over to Amsterdam. I promised my mom I would never ride a motorcycle until she passed away. That was long before she was ever sick and the bike kinda fell into my lap so I did ride it a bit, but not much. I’m so damn excited to ride it all over Europe and attend rallies with V.

The plane ride was another weird milestone. We have so much to look forward to, but I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I had just been a part of. I’m thankful for every moment I had with my mother, but most importantly, I’m thankful for everything she taught me.

When a loved one passes, you’ll have a ton of people telling you that you can talk to them anytime. I just want to say, if you ever need to talk to someone who has been through the same thing, I’m an open book. It helps the healing process to get it off your chest.