just me

Chapter 1 - my personal doom day

This is about the day my mother died. If you're not a fan of emotional shizzle, you should skip this chapter.

Because my mom was in the hospital, we had moved in with granny C for about two months. I had an amazing time, I jumped out of bed every morning. One evening, my great aunt was at the door. Like anytime the doorbell rang I ran to open the door. When my granny was first, I was dissapointed. But I wasn't prepared for the words I heard next...
"She's on intensive care now, the doctors say she will most probably not make it through the night." my great aunt said.

After that, everything moved in slow motion. I ran to my room and sat against the door so noone could get in. I let my tears stream over my face. I still had a hard time understanding why, but I knew it was unlikely that I would ever see my mommy again.

After some time, granny C called me for dinner. But I didn't move. I didn't ever want to move again. I don't know what happened next. I only remember waking up to hear someone crying softly. I looked over to my dads bed, and saw it was him that cried.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
"It's mommy..." He said. "Sweetie come here." I slid onto the floor and walked the small distance between us. My father took me by the shoulders, looked at me with his eyes, red from crying. With a raspy voice, he said: "I talked to you about how people get taken away. Right?" " Yes Daddy, why?" "Well princess, someone took mommy from us. But don't worry, she is waiting for us in heaven. Someday, we will be a family again..."

Tears started to dwell up in my eyes. "Daddy? When is it okay to cry?" I asked, a slight trembling in my voice. He spoke: "Oh princess, it's always okay to cry. You can cry because you're happy, sad, angry,... But if there is one day in your life, a day where noone will judge you if you cry, when nobody cares. It's definitely today."

The next couple of days moved in a blur. I only vaguely remember me writing my speech for the funeral, and my aunt telling me that it was selfish to say that she took us to the zoo.

As I said, I was barely six years old. Ask any six year-old to write such a speech. It's hard.

The day of the funeral I do remember vividly. People telling my dad that she was so young, so full of life. That she shouldn't have had to leave. Grown-ups patting me on the head, saying I'd be okay.

During the funeral, sitting on the front row. Busy with my Barbie colouring book.Walking up to the altar, being blessed by the pastor and lighting my candle.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the morgue car. Getting handed a lollypop by the driver. My 3 year-old brother on my lap.

Laying a sunflower and a strelitzia on the casket before it was let into the grave.

No child should go through this pain. Knowing it was only a sickness that took my mother breaks me. I know the sickness shouldn't be underestimated. Cancer kills, takes mothers away from their children, their husband, their family, friends, and their life.

What's the point in planning for a future? If it all can be stolen away...
- Finding Neverland