The first major loss I personally experienced was my Dad's death. Losing my Dad on the first day of my junior year in high school was extremely traumatic. I only told a couple of friends when he died. He passed away on a Thursday night at the hospital. I was on the phone at 10:00 pm with a friend helping her with her homework when we were being contacted in vain. You see, we still only had rotary phones and call waiting was not available yet, so I was not aware that my poor Mom and sis were trying to let us know about Dad. His funeral was that very next Saturday. Mom had me return to school on Monday. I still remember the look I received from the respective teachers for each of the seven class periods when they had to sign off on my absence form; they were mostly shocked knowing I had lost my Dad and was already back to school, and I could tell they were also sad for me. It was too much, so I just kept the loss bottled up inside.
In May of 2000, when my dear nephew Philip died in a one-vehicle accident, it was gut-busting awful. The bouts of pain were too great, and I thought my world had ended. I had a wonderful career as a district manager for a national company that afforded me the ability to travel extensively. I was making excellent money. But, none of that mattered when Philip died. I can only imagine what my sis (Philip's Mom) was experiencing. I still remember the look on my sister's face and on my Mom's face when they returned from University Medical Center (UMC) in Lubbock. You see, my nephew had been airlifted from Scenic Mountain Medical Center (SMMC) in Big Spring to Lubbock, but it took a while for the arrangements because Philip had to be stabilized first. He was finally transported via a medical helicopter around 10 pm. They didn't get very far. According to the medical team, my Philip died of a massive heart attack because of a torn aorta. The heli was barely 20 minutes in the air when Philip's heart crashed, so they returned to SMMC; they never made it to Lubbock. In the meantime, my sister, her husband, my Mom, and Philip's only two sisters were en route to UMC to meet the heli. Upon arrival, they were given the heartbreaking news. They had to drive all the way back. Two hours of torture. We all gathered at the hospital to bid farewell to my beloved nephew. It's been 22 years now since we lost Philip. I know I still haven't gotten over it. I doubt my sis ever had. She's strong. Her faith is unwavering - like my Mom's faith was. I admire the heck out of them for that.
I was with my Mom when her terminal diagnosis was made on February 14, 2011. It was Valentine's Day, and I grew to hate that stupid holiday with a vengeance for a long time. My Mom's doctors were supposed to visit her in the room that morning at around 9 am. I spent the night in the hospital with Mom as I would always do. We were alarmed that morning when her team of doctors arrived at around 7:30 am. The news was not good. I remember the day before following the batch of tests the doctors performed on Mom and the one doctor telling me and my sister Josie, "I am afraid for Mama." I will forever remember his words. I guess with hindsight being 20/20, I was not as surprised to see the doctors show up so early. Deep down, I knew. I knew the news would be a huge setback and game changer for Mom and our entire family. Her diagnosis was esophageal cancer, stage 4. Mom had already been battling with several other health conditions, some were autoimmune, one was dermatomyositis; I will always blame dermatomyositis and the awful meds Mom had to take as the culprits for her cancer. The pain and torture of seeing Mom struggle with esophageal cancer and not being able to eat. She lost weight fast. It did not take long for her to require a feeding tube; that was a nightmare in and of itself. Mom opted out of treatment. I was so angry that she did that. I was angry at the world for such a long time. She was given nine months to live. On Thursday, November 17, 2011, Mom succumbed to issues related to esophageal cancer. She also died of a heart attack en route to the hospital in the ambulance. ALONE! I take comfort that maybe Dad and Philip were there to greet her and take her Home. I remember our last conversation the night before Mom died. It was special. I keep most of it to myself. The one thing that I share with others about our last conversation is this: I promised to return to college to get my degree.
During my return to college, I discovered a passion for the human computer. I had originally enrolled to major in computer science. I loved learning different computer languages, coding, creating websites, and algorithms, so I was happy. But, once I took my first psychology course, I was hooked. I was Jerry Maguire saying, "You had me at psych-101." I learned how to identify my feelings, how to process emotions, how to be more understanding of others. I fell in love with anything that dealt with death and dying and grief. I was hooked on the teachings of the one and only Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. I have learned a lot about myself and about others. How people mourn. How they grieve. Mostly, I have learned how to compartmentalize things so I can be there to help others.
