February 15th will always be an important day to me, no matter where I am or what I am doing. It will always be the day that my auntie left this world. Most days I don’t like to talk about it, mainly because it makes me sad. But I feel like writing about it today will bring me some healing.
I suppose I should start at the beginning. It was around the first of January that my aunt decided to get checked out, she had this nagging cough, the doctors told her it was probably the early stages of pneumonia, and that if it didn’t get better to come back. It didn’t, so she went back. This time they decided to admit her so they could try more aggressive breathing treatments, they didn’t seem to help much.
It wasn’t long after that, that whatever had a hold on her wasn’t letting up and they decided to put her in an induced coma and put her on a breathing machine. While this was all happening I did go see her, I think a part of me was wishing it away, thinking if I ignored it, then she would get better, her illness would go away.
Not to long after that, we had to face the reality that she may not get better, that was a hard pill to swallow. I was angry, upset, sad, pretty much all of the emotions you can think of. I was angry at myself that I didn’t go to see her until right before she passed, I was mad at myself that the last time I saw her alive and well was months before. But on top of all of that, I was sad because I couldn’t remember the last thing I said to her.
February 14th, 2009. I spent that night getting drunk and trying to dull the pain I was feeling. It didn’t work. The next day we took the drive up to memorial hospital in Colorado Springs. We sat in the hospital waiting room as a family, trying to occupy our minds so we wouldn’t think about the end that was to come. I remember trying to distract my cousins, make them laugh or anything. I remember seeing uncle standing alone, dealing with an impossible decision. Looking around and seeing all these faces that were just so sad.
They gave each of us a little time to say our goodbyes, I went in their and held her hand, talked to her and told her I loved her. I didn’t really know what else to say other then that. The words wouldn’t come to me.
A little before 8pm they told us they were going to take her off the machines and once she was, they would let us back in to be with her while she passed. We all gathered around her, holding hands and just watching her, she looked so peaceful, her struggle was over. Yet, she was leaving a huge hole in out family. In a lot of ways, she was the glue that held our two families together.
I will never forget you auntie, you still mean so much to all of us, and your love and love for life will never be forgotten! Keep watch over all of us. Love you more!
The silence between what I thought and what I said 