The New Journey Begins.....

On the day my thirty-year-old sister decided to rest in heaven; it was one of the hardest times in my family’s lives.  The nurse from the hospice came in the darkness of the morning to pronounce my sister leaving us and to call the mortuary so my sister can be picked up.  A few hours past, my mom, dad and sister were able to give their final farewell.  I remember thinking that I would not have the courage to remove my sister’s earrings but I did.   I thought I would not have the courage to see my sister off but I did.  As I stroked my sister’s hair, it hit me that I was not going to be able to do this after today and my throat choked and my eyes filled with tears.  Her hair was so soft, thick and had a beautiful streak of silver in her hair.  Every stroke I did just brought back all the memories of my sister all at once and it was too much for me to bear.

So I walked outside in the darkness and cool of the morning and waited with my dad for the mortuary to come to our home.

Two white vans with tinted windows pulled up the drive way and the drivers who wore black double vested suits got off and walked towards our home.  They gave their condolences and gave us their business cards and introduced themselves as being from the mortuary and explained what were the procedures in removing my sister.  They ask where my sister was at so my dad and I let them in our home to my sister’s bedroom.   We were told that my sister would be wrapped in a white sheet, covered with a black cover and placed on a seven-foot gurney.  Once on the gurney, she would be strapped securely and placed in the van and be taken to the mortuary.   One of the mortuary’s employees told us that we might want to remove ourselves because this can cause a very emotional state.  So my mom and my 40-year-old sister sat on the other side of the house while my dad and I watched my sister being prepared to take her final journey. 

Going to the mortuary and cemetery with my parents was such an emotional rollercoaster because to the employees; it’s a business so money was the only thing that mattered to them.

Coming home from the mortuary , I wanted to make sure that all medical equipment that was used by my sister was pick up from our home.  Later on that evening, another van drove up to our home to pick up the medical equipment.  The driver was a young man and he was by himself, I said, “You all alone, do you need any assistance in taking the medical equipment out?” he answered, “No, Miss.  I can do it.”  Out went the hospital table, oxygen tanks, wheel chair, oxygen machine and last by not least her hospital bed.  

I kept on insisting to help the young man but he refused.  So I sat in my sister’s room and just watched.  Thinking to myself, “I know somebody’s else can really use this air mattress bed.  I hope it helps someone else just like it helped my sister.”

However, the second the bed started to get disassembled my emotions started to get the best of me.  “Keep it together Emils, remember she said that she is okay”.  The "she" whom I was refereeing to was my 34- year-old-sister who just passed away.  I wanted so badly to touch the head board of the bed, I don't know why but this urge was very strong and I didn't have the courage to do it.

“Clang!”, went the bed as I watched; I felt a rush of tears so I just closed my eyes.  “Bang!”,  went another piece of the bed, I grabbed my sister’s Eeyore and kept my eyes closed.  The tears flowed non-stop from my eyes as my throat started to choke.

I felt as the bed was being taken apart so was my heart, piece by piece my heart was being disassembled and I had no way of stopping it.  At the end, when the young man asked me to sign the document to show that the medical equipment was being returned, he said” I sorry about your lose.”.  I signed the paper and watched him walked out of my sister’s bedroom.  Suddenly, there was such a rush of emotions that I thought my heart was going to drop out of my body.  I screamed,” Where is my Mamas?  I want her back! I want her home. I miss her!  Where is she going to sleep if her bed is gone?”, I couldn’t stop crying if my life depended on it.  I didn’t want my sister back if she was sick; I just wanted her back! 

When the bed was gone, the grief hit me with such force that I will never forget it.  Now that I look back, I realize that no matter how much I thought I was “okay”, I wasn’t.  It’s going to be a long and painful road to recovery and I know my life will never be the same.  The only consolation I have comes from know my sister is not suffering anymore and knowing that one day we will see each other again.