Ciketra Narrative

On January 3, 2009 around 11:00 PM the phone rang with what I thought was exciting news about my newly born sister, Tristyn ,but quickly turned to horror. I could heard the fright in my dad's shaken voice as he told me Tristyn had to go into immediate heart surgery because she needed a stent to open up the blood flow to her heart. Being eight at the time the only thing I could think about was how she might not make it. My dad said to me “look after your sisters, and tell them nothing about the surgery”, which terrified me more than before. I knew I needed to be brave and take charge of the situations for my sisters. Bravery is something I learned for a situation I never knew would happen.

You could tell my brother was screaming as much as he could with his small little lungs. I quickly ran over to our tiny bathroom wondering what was going on. There you could see my little brother using all his force to hold up my mom who had fainted on our cement floor. Even with the two of us repeatedly yelling at her to wake up, her eyes stayed closed. I began to really worry. I ran over to her bedroom and scurried through my blanket looking for my phone. As my sister dialed 9-1-1, I ran back into the bathroom where my brother was sobbing. My sister had already called my aunts and cousins over. They were all trying to help wake her up. They called out her name multiple times. They also hovered rubbing alcohol under her nose, in hopes of her waking up. I let my brother know that everything was going to be fine and that the ambulance would be here in no time to help my mom. I was shaking as I sat next to my brother helping him hold up my mom. My older cousin took our spots and helped sit my mom up.

I went to my living room to ask my mom a question, to see she wasn’t there. I asked my brother “where’s mom?” and he replied with “shes at the hospital, grandpa got burnt.” I would never have expected “grandpa got burnt” to be as severe as it was. I remember my mom coming home around two in the morning. I got up and out of bed to ask some questions. She said “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Pack some stuff up, we’re going to Waterloo tomorrow.” So I listened and packed up a bag.

My brother kept on crying as I pulled him closer into my arms, listening to the sirens blasting the in distance. As the ambulance pulled up, I couldn’t move. My body was frozen holding my brother watching the paramedics pull my mom from the car. I tried to call out for her, but nothing came out. They worked quickly strapping her to a gurney and whisking her off into the distance. Through the fog, I watched the ambulance until I could no longer see the lights. It was then realized that my mother was gone, and we were all alone. As a policeman approached us he got down on one knee to be face to face with me.

One night as I searched for my mother, my dad told me she was not feeling like herself. My dad told me to let her rest that night and I could talk to her the following morning. As I started to wake up the next morning my father was sitting at the foot of my bed and informed me I’d be spending the day with my Aunt Michelle because my mother had a doctor’s appointment. I could not wrap my head around why I would not be attending this appointment but had attended all the others. Later that evening once again both my parents came into my room but this time without smiles. With a shaky voice my mom began to tell me she had been diagnosed with Preeclampsia and her illness was progressing quickly. Now with tears running down her face she continued

Five days had passed this time since anyone had heard from my mother. I remember praying to God to protect her from harm and for me to find her. The next day she showed up, but not in the way we had hoped. One morning as I was getting ready for school my sophomore year in high school, my phone rang to the voice of my stepfather. My stepfather had told me he heard a call come over the dispatch scanner at his work and my mother’s name was mentioned. The sheriff had informed my stepfather that my mother had been involved in an accident. My stepfather asked me to go to the emergency room and see what condition my mother was in because he lived a half hour away from the hospital. When I arrived at the hospital I found my mother cut out of her clothes, covered in her own urine, massive amounts of blood all over her body, and lying lifeless on life support on the table. At this point, no one knew whether my mother would be okay. My mother had bleeding on the brain as well as a tear in her shoulder, a shattered face, and a chest tube draining fluid from her lung which had collapsed. All I could do was pray! My mother’s life was in God’s hands now. Three days later she woke

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

Finally, the nurse came and allowed us entrance to one of our worst nightmares. There the whole family stood with the understanding that they were taking the ventilator off and this could be the last time we would ever see this amazing woman. Each grandchild took their time getting one last hug and saying goodbye. I stood waiting my turn thinking how could I ever possibly whisper into words the gratitude and admiration I had for this wonderful woman. The whole room was on edge trying to be strong for each other. Eventually it was my Aunt Julia’s turn. As she stood there holding my grandmother’s hand crying saying, “Momma, it’s your little girl, please wake up, I know you can do it, you’re strong enough”. I thought my heart would explode. Then, as my dad, the strongest man I know, went over to pull her away from the bedside he began to sob as well. This was almost unbearable to witness without making a scene. I gazed out the window with a desire to be anywhere but in that horribly bleak room facing this unimaginable tragedy with my family that was full of life and laughter. When my Aunt Julia finally was composed once again and acknowledged once again that this was God’s will she said fo the last time, “It’s okay, I understand you are tired. I love you”. The whole room seemed to begin to spin and true mourning was awaken in my soul for this amazingly wonderful woman that held such a

When I finally arrived at the Hospital I got the message I was dreading, they have been moved into the Intensive Care Unit (ICU). As I tried to hold myself together, I ambled throughout the Hospital halls, leading my mother toward the ICU. As we entered the room, we saw a crowd of familiar faces gathered by a Hospital bed. Stopping before the bed I took a deep breath and

Within a couple of minutes the ambulance showed up. They got out the stretcher and put her on it. Elizabeth’s mom was in tears. I put my softball stuff in my bag and ran to the car. I jumped in and waited for my mom and her mom to get in the car. While my mom was driving I had the feeling like I was gonna cry. We finally arrived and rushed in. Elizabeth’s mom asked if we could see her, but we couldn’t. I sat down and waited.

It was my senior year in high school, Fall of 2000. I was so excited, ready to wear my new clothes and see all, my friends that I didn’t get to see over the summer. I knew that this would be the best year thus far, look forward to so much fun and lifetime memoirs. I had the best teachers and I got out of school early, couldn’t wait to get home and tell my parents all about my first day back in school as a senior. My mom always seemed to be a happy person and cheerful never really down. Only to get home and see my mom crying and in pain. To see my mother upset was to know something had to happen. I was praying inside saying, “Lord please don’t let it be death in the family”. As I set down beside my mother to ask what was wrong. She just set and moan and carried, no words seemed to come out, she was so hurt and I never knew my mom to be so mute. Something was going on something so real and a detriment but she could never utter the words to tell me. I thought at this point I needed to call dad. As I dialed my father’s number the phone rang but no answer, I redialed the number several times, still no answer. I called my grandmother and as the phone begin to ring, the front door opens and its dad. I hung up the phone rushing down the hall to ask dad what was wrong with mom why is she so sad crying and no words seem to come out at all. My father asked me to sit down. I knew this couldn’t be good. Thinking out loud, “ is my brother okay?” Dad replied, “ sure, your brother is fine

My father knew I was not doing well. He and my sister had slowly gotten over it, but I had the closest connection to her I was the one who couldn’t let her go. One day I looked out the window and a new boy was moving in next door. He was cute. For one second i forgot about my mom, then I realized my life still sucked. My father told me that he had to go to work, so I had to stay home by myself. It was still summer so I hadn’t been missing school. I had realized that there was no point in living if my mom wasn’t here. I thought about killing myself. I waited.

It was a beautiful Monday morning. The dew on the grass and the smell of fresh flowers made everything appear great, except for the fact that my mom wasn’t feeling well. I knew something was wrong, because she’s never sick. She is the type to deal with pain and not bother anyone about it, so when she said she was skipping work, I got worried. She told me to get ready for the bus, but I refused. I needed to help her. I was an only child and my dad died when I was younger. If I left her, she’d be all alone. I gave her some Aspirin for her headache, suggested she lie down, and told her I wasn’t going to leave her side. She demanded (in her quiet, kind voice) that I must go to school. I didn’t want to argue with her, so I finished getting ready and walked down to my bus stop. As I was waiting for the bus, I felt a sense of concern. “Should I be leaving?” I thought. As the bus approached, I stood up tall, took a deep breath and hoped that this day would get better.

It was the beginning of June, I had just gotten out of school for summer break and I started to work all the time. My mom didn’t feel good for the past couple of days and she had told me she believed it was just a cold. As June 12th came around I knew something was wrong when in the early morning around six o’clock, my aunt ran into my room and frantically yelled, “Your mom needs you now!” Anxiousness overcame me because I knew she wasn’t feeling the best lately. I ran as fast as I could to my mom’s room and saw her in complete distress. I asked her what was wrong and she told me her leg, as I looked down not just her leg, but her foot too was swollen three times the normal size. Looking at her in so much pain she told me, barely above a whisper “I called your brother, he will be here soon.” At that moment, she was not going to be stubborn

At thirteen years old I had lost my best friend and myself. Tuesday morning was when my whole world came crashing down around me. I had found out when I got to school that day. Our principal at the time came in a read something from a stack of papers that were stapled together. I could tell they hadn’t been used in a while because the edges were bent and it looked like it had been stuffed away in a drawer. Sitting there with my stomach in knots, everything he said was flying right over my head. I had so many things running through my head. How could this have happened? Why didn’t he tell me he needed help? Why wasn’t I there for him? Everything became too much for me to bare so my mom came and picked me up. The whole drive home she talked on the phone