Part II: January 19, 2007
This day will always stain my heart more than the actual day of my mama’s death. The memories of this day replays as a wrecked record with a bent needle—detectable, but an eerie and out-of-tune distortion of sound. Each turn around the turntable shows the wearing of the moment as it screeches louder in my ears. I did not know that this would mark the last day of my previous reality.
As we visited my mama at the nursing home, I somehow seemed more anxious than the day before. We were already running late to my basketball game, so I expected this visit to be shortened. I remember previously convincing my daddy to just drop me off at the venue so I can just see mama the next day, yet he always insisted on me seeing her—especially with her recent health fluctuations. Again, I wonder if my daddy knew that these moments would count more than ever.
I remembered the abbreviated prayer, and starting to allow my mind to wonder as I mentally planned for the upcoming game. I always knew to wonder my mind back just in time to help close the prayer with my daddy. Sitting on the edge of the cold, hard air conditioning unit that smelled like unkept hospitality combined with bodily dysfunctions, I leaned my head against the frosted window and said the final lines of the prayer. At that moment, I would never imagined that this would be the last moment of holding my mama’s soft and beautiful hands. This would be my last time opening my eyes and seeing her piercing brown eyes opened before ours. The last time we would pray together as a family.
As I said Amen, I quickly jumped up, eager to scurry on to my tournament. I could see my daddy’s frustration in my anxiety, yet I had plans to make it up to my mama during the next couple of days by staying longer than usual. As I took a short glance out of the window, I noticed an initial falling of snow flurries and was gently reminded that a snowstorm was forecasted for the weekend. I thought intensely on how wild the journey will be to get to the nursing home tomorrow, as it was on the top of a large hill. Lately, we would take an alternative route on a street by a beautiful pond that always caught my eyes and allowed my mind to wonder as I prepared to see my mama.
I zoned back in to my intended destination and reminded my daddy that we needed to soon leave. I didn’t even look back to fully say goodbye. I was the first one to briskly walk out the room to lead in my daddy trailing behind quickly. I can never erase that moment from my head—walking out from seeing her on what would be the last time. I didn’t even get to say I love you.
After leaving on this day, we decided to take the alternative route which passed by the lake. As I peered out of the window, the faint sound of “One Sweet Day” by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men played throughout the car. Something pushed me to stare deeply into the lake as she sang the emotional melodic riff towards the final chorus. It’s almost as if the song was preparing me for something.
“And I know eventually we’ll be together, one sweet day.”
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