Losing My Mum...

I'm going to start the death part of my blog off with the story of how I lost my mum and how it effected me. I'm splitting it in to two parts, this week leading up to my mum passing and my instant reaction, followed by a post next week on how I'm coping years on. This is the part of the blog I'm dreading writing, even though its been 7 years, it still feels very raw and I get emotional talking about this particular subject. I feel though, that this has shaped who I am and is still a big part of my life...So here goes...

I always looked up to my mum, respected her and loved her with all my heart and more. At the age of 15, I started to have the odd vodka with her and my step-dad, spending time with her on a Sunday and getting along fine. I was her port of call when she wanted to go shopping for a new top, dress or accessories. Even though I never got the chance to tell her I was gay, I assume she already knew.

After school one day, I rang my mum at work, as I usually did, and she told me that she didn't feel to good and that she was coming home in the next half an hour. I never thought anything of it, I just thought it was a general illness, nothing to worry about. Half an hour passed. An hour passed. It wasn't until two hours later that my Nan came to the door and asked us to grab some things, we were going to her house. She explained to us in the car that my mum had collapsed at work and was taken to hospital right away. That's when the worry started to creep in...

I remember clear as day, it was half past 7 at night, my step-dad called and he spoke with my Nan, I heard her in the bedroom start to cry. She came through to the living area, sat me and my brother down, told us that my mum had been rushed to theater, and that they had discovered a brain tumor that needed to be removed instantly. They gave my mum a 20% chance of living through the operation.

As you can imagine, I felt like my whole world had fell down on top of me, my heart broke in two and the tears started to roll down my face. I thought I'd never see my mum again. My mum, when we moved from Scotland, had a friend who I've known for as long as I could remember who moved with us in the same area. Straight away I wanted to see her, so my Nan took us.

Whilst there, I broke down fully, cried and cried and cried!! I needed a hug from my mum, not from anyone else, and to tell me that everything was going to be okay! A few hours passed, my step-dad rung again and told us that the operation was a success, that my mum was out of theater but was in a coma.

I got a lift to the hospital, I remember walking in, seeing my mums hair shaved, her laying on a hospital bed, cold, drip white and not herself. She was covered in bandages over her head, linked up to breathing machines and they had given her a tracheotomy, so I could see pipes coming from her throat to help her breathe. This was something that a 15 year old would never want to see, especially not their mum.

I was about to start my GCSE's when all this happened. Even so, I went to the hospital everyday, holding my mums hand, speaking to her, resting my head on her, just general things to make me feel closer to her. We were told that she was making some steady progress, and that things may start looking up.

A week passed, and I remember waking up on the Saturday, I had an overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't go to hospital right away. So my brother and step-dad went. I pottered around the house. A few hours later, I rung my Nan to ask for a lift, she said she was already on her way...I knew then that this was it!

We arrived at the hospital, I remember opening up the double doors, and seeing all my mums friends standing there, crying, my step-dad trying to be strong and hold it together. He told me that my mum had an aneurysm and that her brain was being starved of oxygen and that she was going to pass away. I didn't cry, I was shocked, I just wanted my mum.

It never really hit me till the Doctor came into the room, sat the family down and started to explain what was happening, it was then I knew that I was never going to have my mum again, I got up and ran from the room. I held back the tears as I ran through the hospital, heading for the entrance to go get some air. I remember getting there, seeing my mums friends, dropping to my knees and just let out floods upon floods of tears, everyone rushed round to console me. It was harrowing.

After a while, we had to go say our goodbyes, before they turned off the life support machine. I remember sitting on the bed next to my mum, stroking her hand and face, knowing that this was going to be the last time I would ever see her again, that I would never get to tell her how much I loved her, get hugged by her when I was feeling down or low and I would never get to enjoy my life with her in it.

I said goodbye, left, went back in again, left and went back in one last final time, I just couldn't bring myself to let her go. I was distraught, I couldn't comprehend what was happening, it seemed like everything I loved was now gone...

I'm going to stop writing just now, I have tears streaming down my face but I will continue this, probably next week now. As I said, even though years have passed, it is still very raw for me and writing this is hurting me. It is something I need to speak about, so I will continue, just not now!

A.R Wilson x