Monday, June 6, 2011

Happiness for me has an expiration date.

On May 24th my mother had a massive heart attack and died. My mother who was only 58 years old and 126 pounds was taken from me.
Fourteen days ago I woke up, got ready for work and was making coffee when our phone rang at 4:30am. Cole & I tend to screen our calls anyway so we looked at each other. I answered. My aunt said sorry Candace but your mother had a heart attack and is on life support. Cole raced to work to tell them and while he was gone my brother called to say mom died.
Its so surreal to write these things and still it seems like it can't be real. Mom walked me down the aisle in Dominican just two short months ago. Then again at our reception here on May 14th. She cannot be gone.
Many friends and family flew home to the funeral and so many people have said she wouldn't have left until knowing you were okay-don't they realize if that is true I would go back in a minute and not get married, I would never let her know that my fiances are finally under control, anything to have my mom back.
People have the best intentions when they say things after a death but guess what? I don't want an angel forever I want my mom right now.
So many times over the last fourteen days I thought-if there had been some warning, anything to make it not so sudden-I know deep in my heart that wouldn't have made it easier-it just would have made the times we spent together wrenching. We had no idea and boy did we ever laugh-I made Mom laugh a lot and of that I am grateful.
I have cried what seems like hundreds of times in the last fourteen days and I don't know how I will ever get over this heartbreak. My mom's speech at my wedding was to give her grandchildren and one of the last conversations I had with her was that she was going to move up here with us and babysit our children while we worked, she wanted to buy me the baby bullet so I could make baby food and she was coming in the delivery room.
My heart is just sick thinking of doing any of these things without my mom.