Reflection

I feel that I reflection is cleansing and therapeutic. This time of year, my reflect is focused on my Mother. I’ve been down and out lately and I’ve been blaming it on other things but I know why I am and I feel if release a little stress and steam, I might feel better.  You know, we take for granted what we have access to every day. But just for a minute while you read this blog, imagine that your Mother who you just talked to hours ago, and never missed a day with, just wasn’t there anymore.  

When I was growing up, the only thing I ever remember wishing I had was my Mom. It was a desire that burned into my soul and when my wish came true, it was the best feeling ever! The big factor in all this was that my Mom had never been around when I was growing up. She suffered with drug addiction and after much effort and 6 years in prison, she got her life on track! She had a decent job, she bought a brand new car, she even found a nice little house to rent. My two youngest brothers and my step-father were there and we were happy. My mother moved to Houston to be near me. We lived five minutes away from each other. My Mom taught me a lot. She taught me to survive. She made an impression on everyone she met. He house became a haven for friends and strangers alike. They knew they could get a hot meal and a good cusin’ out if they needed. I’ve witness my Mom take in a sick friend and care for him for free! She worked so hard everyday. She wanted to give her family the best life possible. And that was her drive. She couldn’t help it. It was just who and what she was.

Sadly, her new life only lasted for three years.  One Saturday afternoon, ended it all. She was home after working a 12 hour shift and suffering with  a headache that wouldn’t quit. She took a bath and never made it to her bed. I found my Mom on the floor that evening around 4:00pm. Her bed was still made.  She couldn’t talk and was in a coma. She had a massive stroke to the left side of the brain five days before my 24^th birthday. I felt like the whole world crashed down on me, that someone had knocked the breath out of my lungs. It was extreme! I found myself staring in the face of release forms for Life Support, and a doctor who was telling me that her brain was no longer responding and her heart wasn’t beating on its own. And that the only thing I ever wanted and needed was DYING!! Every stroke of the pen hurt. I didn’t want to be the one that gave written consent that it was OK to say that my beautiful, strong Mother has taken her last breath. And that she can be declared DEAD, DECEASED, IS NOT ALIVE, I didn’t want to walk that road. And if I had an option, I would have gotten my belongings, got in my car, drove home, sank in bed, and started May 24^th all over again. Maybe it would have happened, maybe I could have gotten her to the hospital in time. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to sign those ridiculous papers. Maybe should would have lived past 47 years old. Maybe we would have had her 50^th birthday party at a hotel and the theme would have been Over the Hill. Just maybe. But I guess God said that she had suffered enough. My Mom lived through a lot of hurt and pain. 47 years of heartache, but only three of those years she was able to enjoy life and be with her children and grandchild.  

 I was here, in Houston, all alone. My whole life, crumbled apart. I was upset and angry with God for allowing this to happen. My question was, “Why me?”

I can remember a few weeks after the funeral, really allowing reality to sink in. I woke up one day in absolute horror. I was really alone! There was nobody else in the world who loved me like my Mom did. Nobody understood me like she did. Who would I talk to when I had a problem? Where would the hugs come from? Who would tell me how proud they were of me? The worse part of it all was the fact that I couldn’t pick up the phone and hear her voice. I called her and got her voicemail. Needless to say, I paid her phone bill for a while just to hear her voice on the voicemail message. Then I remember a phase I went through that was just awful. All I did was cry. I would cry at work, I would cry on my way home, I would cry if I saw a movie and someone died. I was a wreck. Just thinking about it now, while I’m writing this blog is making me cry.

I really felt like I’ve changed over the years. I don’t know if I’ve changed in a good way or a bad way. But it’s made me grow up. I’ve become a devoted Mother, and I try to be there for my daughter always. I make sure I let her know just how blessed she truly is. She knows her parents and spends every day of her life with us both. We care about her education and wellbeing. She doesn’t have to wish she could get a hug. She is very loved. And her understanding and appreciating the blessings she has means the world to me.

But it’s been three years, and I’m approaching my 27^th birthday tomorrow. I’m still grieving. I want to be over it, but I don’t think I ever will. From time to time I get angry with my Mom. And I think it’s for no real reason, and I seriously hate that I feel that way. People don’t die because they have nothing else better to do. I know that she didn’t want to go, I know that she didn’t even know that she was really that sick. It took us all by surprise.  I know this is going to sound crazy and morbid, but I anticipate seeing my Mother again more than I anticipate my wedding. I can imagine being in heaven and turning around and seeing my Mom smile! I would probably be so excited I don’t know what I would do! J

Rest In Peace Karen Williams



This blog is dedicated to an Angel who was given her wings too soon.

Sunrise – December 12, 1964

Sunset – May 26, 2009