Mom. Mommy. Ma.
October 9, 2023
On October 3, 2023, I unexpectedly lost my mom. She was my anchor and my rock. Ever since she flew to China to adopt me in March 2004, I had been attached to her hip and never left her side. Growing up, she always told me that she was my mom, not my friend. Yet, I would have to disagree (sorry, Mom!). As much as I never wanted to admit it, she was truly my best friend. She knew my quirks, my weird obsessions, and even the little things I did not know about myself. I knew she would not be in my life forever, but I never imagined that one day, without any warning, I would lose my other half.
It never occurred to me until her passing that she played such a significant role in shaping who I am today, both the good and the bad. While we did not share the same DNA, she passed down many of her interests and parts of her personality to me. Because of her, I am a proud crazy cat person, a bookworm who loves reading to escape from people and reality, a history enthusiast, and a very stubborn person to the point it drives others insane, and an ABBA listener. Most importantly, I am a strong, diligent person because of her.
She was my mentor, my Google search, because I believed she was the most brilliant person alive. She was my superhero, my loudest cheerleader, my biggest advocate when it came to my Deaf and Hard of Hearing rights, and so much more than I can ever express in words.
Her death was a shock to my core. It was completely unexpected. I still replay the last moments we had together the day before. For about three years, since COVID hit in 2020, our mother-daughter relationship became a bit rocky. Her depression was worsening with her growing health concerns, which led her to stop doing what she loved, working as a nurse anesthetist. During that same time, I was in college, and after graduating, I was dealing with post-grad depression and overwhelming anxiety as I tried to figure out my purpose and what my future might look like. Most of our time together, we would bicker and yell, and tensions often ran high. I will admit that I started most of the arguments, and I always felt guilty afterward, but we were both too stubborn to apologize to each other for our harsh words.
But that night before she passed, we were actually bonding for the first time in a while. It was October, so we continued our annual Halloween tradition of watching a Halloween movie every night. I cooked us dinner, and we watched the movie together. It felt therapeutic. After the movie ended, we went to our own bedrooms for the night, turning off the lights as our way of saying “good night.” The next morning, she left at the crack of dawn to go to work while I, the recently graduated and unemployed me, was still asleep. When I finally woke up, I took a shower and sat down to work on job applications on my laptop. It was early afternoon when I got a call from my aunt telling me I needed to call the hospital because there was an emergency. I dialed the number, and a distraught nurse informed me that my mom was in the ER, this time as a patient, and that I needed to get there as soon as possible and find a ride to get me there.
I had gotten calls, texts, and even dropped my mom off at the ER in the past, but hearing the words “you need to get here as soon as possible” made my stomach drop. I immediately started sobbing, knowing deep down that this was the end. After making frantic calls, I finally got a ride to the hospital, which was about thirty minutes away. It felt like the longest drive of my life.
I was crying nonstop during the drive, but halfway there, I suddenly felt at peace. I looked at the sky and felt that everything was okay. That calm lasted for only a few seconds before I started crying again. When we arrived, we went straight to the ER. A nurse pulled us into a room and told us to sit. Then a doctor came in and explained what had happened. He beat around the bush, and I did not catch what he was implying, so I asked my friend to translate for me: “She didn’t make it.” Silence. Stillness. Snap. Scream.
It has been six days since I lost my other half. I feel like a ghost. I can’t eat, breathe, or sleep. All I can think about is the guilt and the regrets of not being the best daughter to her. I wish I had spent more time with her. I wish I had been kinder to her. I wish I had said “I love you” and hugged her that night. Yet time travel doesn’t exist.
On the bright side, I no longer have to constantly worry about her deteriorating health. She is finally at peace.
Hi Mom,
Don’t worry about me. Knowing you, you would be panicking right now and probably regretting that you didn’t prepare me enough to survive adulthood on my own. But I want to remind you that you have given me so many tools and (unwanted) pieces of advice over the years that I’m confident I’ll be okay here on Earth without you by my side. It will take a while for me to figure out and adjust to this adulting crap. BARF. But I have a great support system that will help guide me through the chaos called life. You go ahead and finally rest.
I love you, Mom. Forever and always.
Love,
Your pigtailed little princess
