In the article “All Joy No Fun” by Jennifer Senior,

Senior, Jennifer. “All Joy and No Fun.” Nymag.com. New York Magazine, 4 July 2010. Web. 12 Mar. 2014.

The day was Wednesday August 2nd, 2006. I remember this day like it was yesterday. It was the day my world came crashing down. “TAYLOR! TAYLOR! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! ” I heard my younger sister’s Tiana and Toni yelling and just like any preteen or teen would do, I rolled over and put my pillow over my head. It was too early for me to be getting up and I had been on MySpace all night talking to the boy I liked at the time. “TAYLOR, REALLY WAKE UP. MUMMA’S DEAD!” I didn’t know what to feel. I was thinking this can’t be possible. I ran upstairs faster than I’ve ever ran in my life. I kept on running right to my mom’s room. I pushed the door open with all my strength even though that was unnecessary. I went over to my mom and sat on the floor next to her, shaking her violently. ” MUMMA WAKE UP! MUMMA WAKE UP!” She didn’t move. She was cold, too cold. She had her hand over her head, kind of like Rose when Jack drew the portrait of her, in the movie Titanic. I didn’t know what to do. As the oldest of five I decided it was best to stay calm and try to distract the little ones, so I put the t.v on. I pulled my sister Toni aside and asked her several questions. “When did you find her like this?” After asking Toni this I had a flashback back to the New Year’s Eve when my mom got really drunk and passed out and us being little kids didn’t know what to do so we poured water on her.”Did you pour water on her?” “Already did that,” Toni said. I was only 11 and I had no idea what else to do so I picked up the phone and called the only person I could think to call, my best friend. She called her mom on three-way. I explained to them what was going on and they told me to stay as calm as possible. “Did you call the police yet?” I replied “No, not yet.” “Have you called your grandmother?” “No.” And then I realized something horrible. My whole family was on their way to New York and I didn’t know anyone’s numbers. How was I going to get in touch with anyone? I had no idea what I was going to do. I panicked. I was out of ideas. I was a little kid. I shouldn’t have to deal with this.

Somehow my aunts and grandmother found out and they showed up along with the police, an ambulance, and a detective. When they showed up, I went back downstairs to my room. I was already too overwhelmed to deal with other people. I got right onto my computer and tried to act as if everything as completely normal, knowing that this was eating away at me. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and voices. One I recognize as my aunt Amy’s. the other I had no clue who it was. My door opens slowly and I turn my head. In walks my aunt Amy and a man I assume is a detective. He asks if he can speak to me and I just nod, too worried to speak. I get up from the computer and sit down on my bed next to my aunt. The detective opens hid mouth to tell me the four words I didn’t want to hear. “Your mother is dead.” I screamed at him. “NOOOO! YOU’RE LYING. She’s not dead.” I started crying uncontrollably and my aunt held me and rubbed my back as she cried too. When the crying finally ceased, my aunt told me we are moving back to Mamma’s, that’s what we call my grandmother, so I packed a little bag and went back upstairs to join everyone. When we got to my grandmother’s everything was a blur. So many people were in and out of the house. My therapist came to see me but I couldn’t  speak. Our social worker came, other relatives. There was just so much commotion. I just sat in the kitchen looking out the window, feeling numb. I overheard the adults talking about the funeral. “I want it done as soon as possible,” said my grandmother, so it was decided August 6th would be the final day I’d see my mother.

The funeral was closed casket but immediate family members got to see the body before it was closed. My sister Toni and I walked up to the casket and gave our mother cards that we made. The cards were going to be burned with her body and buried with her ashes. I think this was the hardest part of the entire ceremony. The wake was long. So many people in and out of the funeral parlor. People that I’ve never seen in my life were there. Many of my closest friends came to support me. Even my fifth grade teacher showed up. When the funeral finally began I had almost forgotten why we were there because the wake took so long and I was happy to be around friends and family that were comforting me but as soon as I walked back into the room, the big black casket reminded me that this was not a happy gathering one but one to mourn the loss of the most important woman to me, my mother. As I sat there, I tried to  listen to the words of the pastor but it was hard to listen to someone who didn’t know my mother talk about her as if she did. It felt staged. My aunt Amy spoke next. She told us about times when she and my mom were young and this brought back memories of my mom. My mom was a happy, outgoing person for the most part. She loved to dance. My aunt talked about times when my mom would try to teach her how to dance and my aunt just couldn’t get the steps down. She talked about my moms obsession with the New Kids On The Block. My aunts eulogy made me remember the good things about my mother and from that day on I vowed to myself to not focus on the negative aspects of my moms life but on the positive ones.

The death of my mother was unreal for so long. Even now sometimes I still think she’s coming back and it’s been almost eight years. It really only sinks in on holidays, birthdays and times when my family is gathered together. Last year my mother’s death hit me the hardest. It was my senior year of high school and my mother wouldn’t be there to see me graduate, help me pick out a prom dress, or move me into my dorm room. Times like those I envy other people. They still have their mothers. I don’t. Sometimes I sit and think about my future.  My mom won’t be there  when I graduate college and go onto medical school. My mom won’t be there on my wedding day. My mom won’t be there when I give birth. My children won’t have a grandma to spoil them. I won’t have a mother to go to when I need advice about my kids. These were things I expected my mother to be there for or help me with as I got older and that can’t happen. As I sit here writing this, I decided that I’m going to make it my priority to do the things my mother never had the chance to do. I’m going to live my life to the fullest and make her proud.