Vicki’s Story
We were alone in my grandma’s living room, darkness covering us both. My mom sat on the ottoman, defeated. She was in her floral nightgown, one that she chose because it is easier for me to slide on her myself, and she was breathing oxygen through the concentrator that was connected to the wall. “I can’t do it anymore.” she had said. I wiped my eyes, tears spilling down my shirt as I held in a sob. “Mom, yes you can. You made it this far. I’m here for you.” I pleaded with her. She looked at me, eyes glazed over and sighed. “Mija, just put me in a home or something. I’m just a burden for you.” “No. I would never. Even though this happened too early in life, I wouldn’t have put you in a home at all.” We sat in silence again, tears flowing down our faces in unison. She breathed out. “I guess I can keep going. I love you, mija.” “I love you too, mom.” I didn’t think a few weeks later after this conversation I would lose my best friend forever. I come from a long line of strong women in my family.
My great-grandma had four children and eventually became a working single mom. My grandma had three children and was also forced to become a hard-working single mom. Then, there was my mom. My mom was a warrior. She was the most amazing person I have ever met and looked up to for inspiration. It might seem biased to other people since she was my mom, but she really was an amazing and strong person.
2015-2016 were the hardest years of my life. My mom was really sick and had a medical malpractice surgery that caused her to be in the hospital for three months. I had to put school off and quit my job to be there every day. I never wanted to leave her side because we’ve always been together. She had me when she was 18 and she raised me with so much love and affection. We were the best of friends as mother and daughter. We went through everything together and she took care of me through hard times. But even while growing up, she wasn’t fully healthy. She had lupus that brought up multiple conditions, but she was the strongest person that fought through it.
When I almost lost her, I didn’t know what to do. When she was in the hospital for three months, she was in a coma and on a ventilator, until she slowly came out of it. She had to learn how to breathe on her own and walk again. Right when she got out of the hospital, I had to become her caregiver. She had to be on oxygen 24/7 and was bedridden. For almost a year, I worked so hard to be her caregiver and I can honestly say that was the toughest job I’ve ever done. But I didn’t quit; she took care of me all my life and then it was my turn. It was just disheartening to do it so early in my life. All while I was taking care of her, I didn’t know a lot of things that were happening out in the regular world with young adults in their early twenties. As I took care of my mom, she would be in and out of the hospital, her breathing becoming worse and worse.
Then the day came. I rushed her to the hospital again knowing that something was wrong. It was late at night, and once it hit the morning of September 14th, 2016, that was going to be the last time I talked to her. Before her delirium, we did manage to tell each other we love each other. That was at the crack of dawn. When it was getting close to 9-10 am, everything came crashing down. Beeps were ringing and I was panicking, my mom screaming in delirium and then she turned blue. She turned blue before my eyes and I couldn’t get the image out of my head. Doctors rushed in while rushing me out and after some time...they couldn’t save her. Part of my heart was gone that day and I screamed. I screamed but she didn’t come back. She was 41 when she passed away. I was 23 years old when I lost my mom forever.
I still deal with my grief. It will never go away, and I suffer from PTSD now. Whenever I go to a hospital, I have a flashback from that day. It’s been seven years now and thankfully I can handle being in a hospital, but I sometimes have my moments. Like last Fall, my grandmother (my mom’s mom) fell suddenly ill and she was in and out of the hospital. One of the times where I spent the night, the doctor came in to let us know she had a blood clot in her lungs, the same thing that killed my mom. I was alone at the time and broke down in a panic attack, calling my aunts to rush to the hospital because I wouldn’t be able to handle this moment.
Thankfully, my grandmother is doing much better now and has improved immensely from last Fall.
After my mom passed, I learned who was there for me and who was not. I even gained new friends that have supported me through this. My family became more close-knit, coming together because my mom was one of the shining lights in our family. Time passed, and grieving is a little easier for me now, but it still hurts. I went back to school and graduated with my Bachelor’s (my graduation walk was on my mom’s birthday, that day was very emotional). I am in a relationship and I work full-time at a performing arts ballet company and have my own apartment to call home. I’ve had a long journey now that I am 30 years old and I still have more to go, now that I have my mom’s strength. She made me a warrior.
