It's been 13 years...

It's been 13 years since my mom died.

I wasn't really thinking about it this year, but I guess my subconscious was; I dreamt about her this morning. In the dream she was still alive, and we were making plans to have dinner. She and my dad left to go do something, and it suddenly struck me that she shouldn't have been there because she had died. I started asking my friends if they has seen her, or was I just going crazy. My friends were consoling me, and I started crying because I was grateful for their concern, and also sad at my loss.

I woke up crying.

Thirteen years ago, my parents were going to visit my brother and his family in Hong Kong. I talked to my Mom and Dad on the phone before they left, said the usual " have a great trip! I love you" stuff, and that was that. Three days later, I get a call from my Dad saying Mom was in a coma and it didn't look like she was going to make it.

I really don't remember much of the next three months. As I told a friend of mine, it was like my reality check bounced. I remember going to work every once in a while, but mostly I was just numb. I have a couple really amazing friends that made sure I got out of the house at least once a week, even if it was just to come over to their place for dinner, or a little get-together.

Thirteen years later, I still miss my mom.

My Dad (Bill), brother Steve, and sister-in-law Wendy wrote a recap of what happened to share with family and friends so they could understand everything that happened. Although it ends with my Mom dying, it is an amazing story of the goodness of people; strangers working together to help somebody— somebody they don't know, but who needs their help.

( Story of the Final Days - behind the cut )