Life after Death

I wrote this in memory of the morning my mom died...


Have you ever woken up to the sound of screaming?

I opened my eyes in a hope to dissipate the horrific sounds from my relentless dream, only to find that the yells were in my world. My real world. It was still dark outside; I glanced over to my bedside clock – 2:20am. What is happening? Why is my father screaming? I raced out of bed and followed the sounds of anguish into my parent’s bedroom. “She’s not breathing! She’s not breathing! I can’t get her to breath! My angel! Please!” My father lay quivering next to my mother’s naked, exposed body on the bathroom floor. I cannot describe the wave of emotions that sped throughout my body. I was frozen for a split second until memories of first aid came streaming back. I ran to her side and immediately felt for a pulse … … … Nothing. I looked up at my father, desperation flashing through the broken man’s eyes, and I knew in that moment that my life would never be the same again.

Whenever I used to watch tragedies in the movies, I used to laugh when the character would call 911 and be unable to remember their personal details. I remember thinking to myself that I would never be like that. I thought I would remain calm, collected and completely sane. This is one depiction of human reaction that the movies don’t lie about. I called the emergency services and tried very hard to explain what was happening. “She’s not breathing! I don’t know what to do! My mom is not breathing! Tell me what to do!” The lady on the other end of the line tried to calm me down – “Alright dear. Explain what has happened”. “I-I-I don’t know! I was asleep and then I heard my dad shouting that he couldn’t get her to breathe!”
The lady spoke again, in a very soft and gentle voice spoken in such a manner as to create a sense of complete understanding, “Tell me your name darling.”
“It’s... um…” I paused, horrified that I could not remember my own bloody name.
“It’s Smith… um... Kayla Smith! Please help me!”
“Ok Kayla, how long has your mom not been breathing for?”
“Um… 20 minutes I think… um… maybe more!”
“Ok sweetheart. Have you checked for a pulse?”
“I have! She doesn’t have one! That is why I am phoning you! Please you have to help me! I have to make her breath again!”
“I understand dear. What is your address? I will dispatch an emergency vehicle to you immediately.”
“I live in… ah… oh my God I can’t believe this! … I know this, I just can’t remember…”
“It’s ok sweetheart. Take a deep breath and try to remember your address for me.”
“It’s number 2. Yes number 2!”
“Ok. What is the name of your street?”
“It’s number 2! The complex… it’s something Italian… Bella something. Shit! Casa del Bella! That’s it!”
“Very good! Now what street?”
“Church!”
“Wonderful. Well done. A vehicle has just left and is on its way to you as we speak. Now Kayla, is there anyone else there with you?”
“Oh thank you! Thank you so much! Um, yes my father is here.”
“Where is he now?”
“He is in the bathroom. Sitting by my mom. He is trying to give her CPR, but nothing is happening!”
“Ok darling. Go stay by your father. You need to be together. The ambulance will be there in about 15 minutes.”
“Thank you so so much!”

Those next 15 minutes felt like an eternity sitting next to my mother on the bathroom floor. After every 4 pushes that I made on her chest, my father would breathe heavily into her mouth, but all that was released was a horrific smell along with a gargle. I knew she was gone. I knew that I would never see her smile again or laugh at me when I tripped over my own feet like I always did. There was a man sitting along the other side of her. I didn’t recognise him anymore. He was still, as white as ghost and distant.

I jumped as our intercom rang. For a second I could not comprehend where the sound was coming from. It rang again, triggering my memory. I ran to pick it up and let the ambulance in. I sprinted downstairs with every ounce of strength I had, splitting my finger on the wall. I opened the door and found a young lady and a middle-aged man, both dressed in blue, with red and white stripes around the collar and sleeves. Network 911 embroidered on the left side of their shirts. “Hello, are you Kayla?” asked the young lady. “Yes I am. She’s upstairs in the bathroom. She doesn’t have a top on. We took it off thinking it might help to keep her cool.” We all rushed upstairs and suddenly I was utterly numb. I stood motionless when I watched them put a heart monitor onto her faded skin. No emotions escaped my eyes when I heard them say that there was nothing more they could do and I watched my father fall to the ground with cries for his lost love. They moved her into her usually warm space in the bed and covered her with the bed sheet. I stood and stared at the place where a few hours before I had kissed her good night and wished her sweet dreams. On this day, Monday October 16th 2006, I said good bye to my mommy, to my strength, to my person and to my life as it had been for 18 years.

The loss of someone you love is something you eventually learn to deal with. The pain however never goes away. The longing for her voice or her touch is something that stays with you forever, but your ability to breathe becomes easier. Slowly you start to feel like a person again. Never quite full of the life that consumed you before, but enough to continue with a remembrance of daily tasks. This was the most difficult experience that I have ever had to endure, but through it I learnt that there is definitely something after death. Something within you, whether you want to believe in or not. It is purely your decision about how dedicated you are to existing with possibilities or to ignore them. But if you want to, you can create a legacy that you will be remembered by. A gift of yourself that you leave behind when time comes to depart from this life.

I was no more ready to see her die, than I was ready to feel her live inside of me. It must have been about a year after her passing when I first realised it. She was alive. Her smile had faded quite considerably, but she was there. It took me by surprise at first and I felt a little uneasy, then time made me realise. Realise that my actions were a mirror of what I was missing the most. Realise that I was performing the same mindless tasks in the way she would have. All I could do was smile. She was within me, living every day as I do and showing pride for my achievements. And she was there. Always. She may not give me a hug at the end of the day. She may not dry my nightly tears, but every doing of mine is also a part of her and it has an element of her beauty within.