I saw Mommy on January 7th, and she was her usual mean self. I could feel the tears welling up when I tapped her on her shoulder, for her to only say, “don’t do that.” LOL

I couldn’t wait to call my brother and tell him what had happened, and we laughed.

That following Monday, I get a call from him saying that the facility is saying any day now. How?! I just saw her! She was fine! She was her mean, strong, walking up and down the hall self! How did she turn for the worst that quick? All I could do was jump in my car, drive for an hour, and a half speeding to Indy.

I get to her room, and sure enough, Mommy is in her bed. Weak. Small. Very Small. And quiet. I couldn’t do anything except sit on her bed, turn on some gospel music, hold her hand, and cherish her.

I sat there for about two hours. Letting her know what she meant to me. To us.

How she was a great mother. How she was the pillar of holiness. And how we were going to be ok. And then I remembered how I had this same conversation with Daddy ten years ago. Except for this time, they both will be gone. And to be honest, because of Alzheimer’s, I lost Mommy that same year Daddy passed.

She was here physically, but mentally she was gone.

So from that day to February 1st, I pleaded with God to hold death at bay, because one of my daughters will be turning 21 years old on February 1st.

I didn’t want anything to happen before or on her birthday. She was going through enough around that time, and I didn’t want this on her too.

So on February 2nd, my husband and I were celebrating our first date anniversary, completely forgetting about the Superbowl, and watching Toy Story 4. Typically I don’t keep my phone next to me when we watch a movie, but that night, I did.

At 6:33 pm, I received a call from one of Mommy’s nurses saying the one thing no child wants to hear. All I could do (after I hung up) was scream. My husband held me. And all I could do was scream, “Oh God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”

I instantly pulled myself together because I needed to get to her. I called my brother. He said he knew and would call everyone else.

My girls Facetime me from Indy (they were still celebrating the now 21-year old’s birthday) because one of my brothers posted what happened on FB. They wanted to know if it was true. I told them I was so sorry. I did not want them to find out that way. I wanted to tell them in person.

Seeing their faces like that, broke what was left, of my heart.

I jumped in my car, and my husband right behind me in his, (in case I needed to stay in town) we hit the highway. After breaking many laws, we got there in about an hour.

When I walked into Mommy’s room, all I could do was rub her hand, arm, and hair…and tell her thank you. And then I started thanking Jesus. I kissed her forehead, and as we left to get to our daughters, all I could think about was how cold she felt.

Then I instantly went into autopilot.

No time to grieve. No time to process. It’s time to handle business, comfort my girls, our family, friends, church, and make arrangements.

Mommy’s homegoing was beautiful. I can not thank my church enough. They went beyond the call of duty.

After service, Marcus and I went back to the hotel. He went to get us some pizza, and I took a shower, dried off, put on my pj’s, and stood frozen in the middle of the room. My autopilot was shutting down.

After we ate. Watched tv. And got in the bed, it happened. I lost it.

I have never cried so hard. The more I cried and screamed, the more it hurt. And the more it hurt, the more I cried. All I could think about. Is both of my parents…are gone!

I know that there are more tears to fall. But, Mommy and Daddy are together again, and God loves the faithful. And on February 17th, it will be their anniversary. I guess. Daddy was tired of celebrating alone.

Mommy and Daddy, I love ya’ll so much. I hope that I’m making you proud.