She's Gone | Teen Ink

She's Gone

December 13, 2016
By Anonymous

Jami… she’s gone.


It was the spring of 2012 and I was only in the fifth grade. I got in the car and let out an over exaggerated sigh while massaging my temples to relieve the headache the long day of school had caused.


*Click*
The usual noise of the lock sounded as we drove away from school. We rode in silence for a bit, me trying to sort out my day, and mom, stuck in her thoughts. After a few minutes of waiting for the usual conversation my mom and I had after school to start, I broke through the thick, heavy silence.


“Hey mom-” I saw her glance up to the rear view mirror, my signal to
continue. “…I love you a lot.”
Mom quickly made eye contact with me in the mirror and looked back at
the road. “I love you too baby.”


Silence again, and not the good kind. I could tell mom was wanting to tell me something, but didn't know how to get it out. Once again in a desperate attempt to have decent conversation, I broke the silence.


“Mom? Could we go to the park this weekend maybe?”
“I'm sorry honey but we can't, I'm going out of town.”
“Oh… to where? May I go?”
“I don't know Jami, Aunt Jackie isn't feeling well and I need to go down
and help Uncle Sim.”
“Please mom? I won't be a bother, I promise.”


***


“Jami it's so good to see you!”


I was quickly enveloped by the familiar arms of Papa Sim. I breathed in
and my nose was immediately filled with a strong, though not unbearable, smell of cologne. After a few seconds of awkward greetings and hugs, I overheard my mom chatting with my aunt Melanie.


“How long does she have Mel?” I heard my mom whisper in a failed
attempt to shelter me from the harsh, hurtful truth.
“Oh Hun, the doctor says till Sunday but you know her, she's a fighter. I
do know that Simeon is thinking about taking her off life support though.”
“I can't even imagine how he feels right now-”
“I bet it's mixed emotions, his love is about to pass away, but she's been
in pain for so long. I think he's just having trouble coming to terms with it.”
“That's true. I could nev-” Mom was about to continue when she caught
my eye. She looked at Melanie and gestured toward me. They both turned around and continued their conversation. Not that it helped, I had already heard enough.
I thought she was sick. I didn't know this was happening. What do I do?


Why did I come? Why did I expose myself to this? Why did mom- why? My eyes began to fill with water, but I didn't dare let it spill out of my eyes..I need to control myself. This is hard on mom I need to be strong for her. My body was on fire, my ears were ringing; but I sat on the couch only feeling numb. Lost in my thoughts, I only came to when mom walked up to me.


“Jami, baby, it's time to go see Aunt Jack.”


***
Oh my.
I walked in the room to see my Aunt hooked up to a machine. She sat there as others crowded around her, talking to her, but getting no response. I could barely get it out, but I tugged on my mom's arm and managed to mutter words.


“Mom,” I hesitated asking, but figured I'd already gotten her attention.
“Mom, why is she not talking to them?” My eyes filled with tears, “Doesn't she want to talk to her family before she leaves mom? Doesn't she care?”


Mom glanced down at me. “Baby, she can't talk. She isn't strong enough.
She isn't choosing to not talk.  It's not a choice hun.”
I looked at my feet, embarrassed that I asked the question, “I'm sorry, I
didn't know,” I whispered hoarsely, disappointed in myself for ever doubting my aunt. I sat in the seat furthest away from the bed she was laying on quite awkwardly, and, uncomfortably, watched everyone chat and tend to my aunt. I heard them scheduling who would watch her at certain times in the day. I completely zoned out in thought when Aunt Melanie nudged my arm.


“Jami you should sing that song you always sing; Aunt Jackie would love
that.” I froze before muttering an excuse about not feeling well and sat down facing away from my dying aunt.
This would prove to be one of my biggest regrets.


***


“Could you pass the potatoes please?”


We were back at Uncle Sim’s place eating dinner and talking about Aunt Jackie and life.


“Yes ma'am of course,” my cold hands grabbed the bowl of warm potatoes and passed it, shakily, in the directions of the voice. I stared at my plate all throughout dinner, never bothering to look up.


How can they act like everything is fine? Someone is dying. Someone who is near and dear to us. How can they act fine? A woman I never remember talking to much, but remember the countless time I'd hold her hand at dinners much like this, is dying and they're crowding around stuffing their faces at dinner.  This isn't a family dinner without her here. She can't die. She can't leave; that's not fair.


I stood up and excused myself from the table, scampered toward the bathroom, locked the door, and let it all out. The hot tears of sadness, fear, and confusion streamed down my face, warmed my cheeks, and fell on the floor. For four minutes I sat against the door, trying to make sense of what I was feeling, and coming to the conclusion that I felt nothing. I was numb, everything happening at once was inhibiting my ability to feel. I looked in the mirror at my puffy cheeks and cringed.


Mom will know I cried. Moms always know.


To avoid being caught in the act of an emotional breakdown, I splashed water on my face and waited for the redness to go down in my cheeks. I put on a brave face and exited the bathroom and quickly took my seat at the table. A few minutes went by of mindless chatter in which we gravitated to the living room.


*Ringgggg Ringgggg*


We all simultaneously turned to Uncle Sim and sat in anticipation as he fished his phone out of his pocket, glanced at the caller and left the room. We sat in agonizing silence, waiting to hear what was happening. Uncle Sim stumbled into the room.


“W-we,” he cleared his throat, “we need to get down there: fast.” I stood up to leave but mom grabbed my hand.
“Jami you're staying here with your cousins. I don't want you exposed to this; you're too young,” and with that, she hurried out the door.


***


*Creeeeeeeeeeeak*


I shot up out of my chair in seconds upon hearing the door open. I slowly watched everyone file in, quietly.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.


I made eye contact with Paul and Mom as they walked towards me, I could barely make out the low whisper that confirmed the truth, “Jami... she's gone. We-”


Paul continued talking, but I couldn't hear anything he was saying. Suddenly, my ears were ringing, the room was too warm, I was uncomfortable, and I felt sick to my stomach. I was, for some reason, intensely interested in a stain on the carpet. My eyes quickly began to fill with tears.


Be strong for mom. Be strong for mom. Be strong for mom.


I blinked rapidly to stop my eyes from watering and darted my eyes to my mom. My strong, beautiful mother, suddenly looked so sad and broken. I hesitated, but then reached out and grabbed her hand, looked her in the eyes, gave her the best smile I could muster, and said, “Mom, are you okay? I love you. It's gonna be okay mom; you know that right?”


Mom chuckled, but continued crying, “Baby I know, but it's okay to be sad. It's okay to be sad Jami; you know THAT right?”


It's okay to be sad.


“Yeah I-I know.” With that, my walls and armor that hid my emotions cracked. Let the waterworks begin.


***


“We are gathered here today, not to mourn the loss of a loved one, but rejoice a life of happiness.”


Cue internally rolling my eyes for eternity. I mumbled something under my breath and received a nudge from my mom.


“She's in a better place-”


I rolled my eyes again, lost in my own thoughts.


This is insane. He can't honestly think saying those things will mend anyone's hurt here? That's not what I want to hear; I get that it is true, but that doesn't help. It doesn't matter if she's in a better place, I'm selfish, I want her HERE with ME, not anywhere else. What was the last thing I said to her? Can I even remember that? I can't even remember that. I can't remember the last thing I said to my aunt- what am I- how did this- why did this- ugh.


I was interrupted by everyone standing, and slowly filing out of the pews. I stood, turned to follow my mom out, but a hand grabbed mine. I followed the hand up to a familiar face, but couldn't seem to remember her name.
“You know, your Aunt Jack is probably looking down on you right now, smiling that you're even here.”


“It doesn't matter, she's gone.”


“Hun, Aunt Jack isn't gone, not even close to being gone. She is still here, maybe not physically, but in memories. You just gotta pause and be patient, and you can feel her here.” She squeezed my hand, and glided out.


I stood there, for a few seconds, feeling suddenly comforted. Aunt Jack isn't gone, she's in this room, and when I walk out of this place, she'll be wherever I go.


“Jami, baby, come on.”


And with that, I smiled, and followed my mom’s voice out of the room.


The author's comments:

This is a short memoir about the events leading up and after my aunt's death. 


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