Help me to Heal

Chapter 4

As we get closer to our home, memories from these last days play  through my mind. From grandma's glossy eyes when she dropped me at school that morning to my dad looking up as he told me mom was better a few moments ago, making a special stop on the last time I saw her. I feel the warmth of her hand above mine again, as if she is holding it right now. I can almost hear the low beeping of all the medical stuff she was connected to that day and her breathing undereath the mask she had covering half of her face.

I remember that last time I kissed her. Inmediatly I feel my lips burn as if I was actually touching her forehead with them. I should have kissed her a thousand times more, I should have stayed longer, maybe spend the night with them, I should have ....I should have told her I loved her right before I left that room 0301.

0301.

Those numbers will never escape from my head. Ever.

The car starts to go slower and stops. We're here, in front of my house. It's a beautiful house my father bought less tan two years ago after my mom and I begged and pushed a lot for him to buy it. The red brick front stands out from all the white houses surrounding it, what makes it different and much more interesting. If I didn't live here already and someone made me choose from all the houses in this street,  I have no doubt I would pick it. There are many cars parked close to my house, what shows all my family is here. I like family reunions, but right now I'm not in the mood for one.

We come out of the car and walk to the front door. As son as my dad presses the fey in, the door is opened from inside, revealing grandma. Her short black hair is messy, and her eyes red.

"My por little girl, come here with grandma. I-" She says with her arms open to hug me, but is cut by my father's harsh voice from behind me.

"Let her alone mom, she's not in the mood for this. Go upstairs Vicky."

I make my way through the crowded corridor that leads to the living room, avoiding eye contact with anyone there. I hear just too many "I'm sorry's" and try to keep a serious expression, keeping my tears inside until I get to my room. I run upstairs as fast as I can and into my room.

The light pink walls make me feel in peace. I throw myself in my small bed and bury my face in the pillow. The lump in my thoat hurts and makes me feel as if I need to scream. Even though the house is full and my doors are closed I can't, because I'm afraid someone would listen. I never care to cry in front of people, but this time is different. This time it feels like I have to act like nothing happened, I need to try to convince myself she's still here with us, because facing the truth is just too painful.

The pain I feel is something that no one that hasn't been through this would understand, because I can't even understand it myself. It's a selfish pain. When a person dies, we don't feel sad for them, we feel sad for us. We feel sad because we will never be able to see them again, to hear their voice or their hugs. We feel sad because our life completely changes when they are not in it anymore, and we have to adjust to a new reality. Every person that goes through the loss of a loved one feels this selfish pain, is just that no one understands it or admits it.

I hear steps coming up the stairs. Sounds like a woman. My mom had a pair of heles she wore for work that sounded the same when she came to my room in the mornings to wake me up.

My door is slightly opened and I don't make a move, so whoever is here thinks I'm asleep and leaves. It worked and I am left alone with my thoughts again.

After a while the pain in my throat has somehow made  its way to my chest, and then to my stomach. I have no more tears to shred. I'm empty. Completely epty. Dad's words are playing again and again in my mind.

"Last night mommy stopped breathing... and went up to heaven...."

I will never be able to call anyone mom again....

"Last night mommy stopped breathing... and went up to heaven...."

I will never be able to listen to her voice again...

"Last night mommy stopped breathing... and went up to heaven...."

I will never be able to hug her again...

"Last night mommy stopped breathing... and went up to heaven...."

A single tear has made it's way out of my eyes, and relieves the pressure that has been building inside of me since I made all these statements. After repeating them a few times, many tears accumulate in my eyes and start to fall down, and I cry myself to sleep.

"Vicky, pumkin, wake up. You haven't eaten anything since you got here". It's my dad's voice I hear, but I don's have the strenght to open my eyes and face reality again.

"W-what time is it?" I ask with my eyes closed.

"It's four. Come on, let's get you dressed."

"For what? We're going somewhere?"

"Uhm, yes. We have to go say our last good bye's to mommy" He says, and I finally open my eyes. He looks tired and sad. I hate to see him like this.

"Can we see her again?!" I can't understand it! She's gone! What is this place we're going that you can say good bye to someone who isn't in this world anymore?

"Yes. She'll be there. All of us are coming, but if you don't want to, it's okay. If you prefer to stay home, grandma will stay and take care of you. What do you think? Want to come?"

"Yeah daddy, I want to say good bye to her." I answer, firmly. I want to be as close to my mom as I can, and also I want to go out and distract myself a little.

"Great. Come, help me pick up some clothes for mommy to wear this afternoon".

We end up picking that long brown skirt she loved, and a sleeveless brown tank with an abstract design printed in gold in the front. She wore that a lot, and if she's going to have a lot of people visiting her wherever she is, she'll want to wear that.

Grandma helps me take a bath and picks some nice clothes for me to wear. I put on a gray skirt with beige dots that ends a little bit above my knees and a beige knitted sweater. My mom loved it.

I get in the car with dad and grandma. Everyone else has already left. The ride is silent and all I do is watch outside the window. We pass many mothers driving with their kids in the back seat, and I wish I could have one last ride with her. We would play one of those car game my dad hates and laugh when we beat him. I'm sort of happy I got to enjoy those moments, and I will store them in my heart forever.

We enter a parking lot and when we come out of the car, I read a sign in the building in front of us: "Funeral Home". Oh. I've been here before, when my great grandmother Mary died. I thought we would really talk to mommy and say our proper good bye's. All the excitement that had grown inside of me disipates, and I feel empty again.

Dad leads me up a few steps and into the funeral house. There's too much people inside, many people must have died today. He opens the door to a room full of relatives, and a shiny wooden box in the middle. There's many people looking inside the box, but I really don't want to. I guess she looks like she's sleeping, but it doesn't matter how many times I repeat that to myself, I know she's not. I won't look inside. I make my way to the chairs in a side of the room and sit there, alone. I can see my father talking to people I have never seen before. They all have sad expressions, and even I can't hear them from here, I know they're speaking like my mom's death really affects them. Oh, come on! Everyone knows you don't care. Stop acting, there's no need to.

Hours seem to pass with people arriving and leaving the room. My dad never left his place next to the big box, appearing to be some sort of tour guide.

And then I looked up and saw him. Joseph was entering the room and I've never felt more relieved. I need someone to distract me from everything, and no one's better than him. He looks up from the floor and meets my gaze, giving me a small, apologetic smile.

Behind him comes a woman who I think is his mom, and after her comes... another boy? Who's that boy? He's around our age. I have never seen him before. My curiosity over the mysterious boy grows as the two of them come closer to where I am seating, leaving the woman behind, talking to dad and grandma.