Thanks

So, I'm sure as many of you heard. My mom, Sherri Cooper, died recently. It was a surprise and yet not that surprising at the same time. Meaning, I certainly was not expecting it that day, but I was expecting it in the near future. I guess you never really expect death, though, it just kinda happens. If you follow the blog about my mom's cancer fight/struggle (Thunder.stormbefore.com) , you'd know my dad uses all these fancy metaphors i.e. cards and gravity. I will not being doing that. Why? Because I suck at poetic metaphors. I'd probably end up comparing something to McDonald's French Fries or something. Who knows. 
Mom died at 11:23 PM on 11/23/15. It's quite the coincidence. Of course, it's not something I really appreciate yet, but sometime in the future I probably will. In the hours before her death, Mama was having a hard time. The thought of death had slipped into my mind, but I swiftly pushed it out. There's no way she could die now, I thought.
See, here's the thing with me. I have a vivid imagination. And this was not how I imagined my mom dying. I imaged it happening a lot slower, like I'd know a few days before that it was going to happen. Then again, thinking back on it, that thought was rather foolish. Death doesn't have an appointed date. It comes and goes as it wishes. 
In my mom's last hours, she was surrounded by her family- even the cats were sitting up on the bed with her. Her brown eyes were glazed over, seeing something we couldn't. I'd like to think that it was her mother, taking her somewhere the rest of us can't follow. Not yet, at least. 
Even though she was having trouble in the previous hours, Mom died peacefully with almost a smile on her face, staring out at something we can't yet see. 
I stood by her bed for a while. Just staring at her body. Waiting for her to breathe again. This must been some horrible practical joke. I guess that's what people call the denial stage. I think I still might be in that stage.
At the moment, my mom being dead is just a fact to me, it has yet to be an emotion and really sink in. I'm not sure when it will, but I'm sure one of these days it will sink in and hit rather hard. 
It feels surreal. My mom being gone. Not being able to talk to her and hearing her odd comments on things . This can't be happening, but it is. My mind still hasn't been fully able to wrap around it. 

I've been trying to get back to my normal life. For me, that's what helps. Some people need time to mourn, but I'd rather keep myself busy to not mourn. Maybe that's kind of bad. Good thing no one is in my family to tell me that. 
This Thanksgiving was rather lonely and small. I just wanted to stay home and with just family (not like the entire family, like just my sister and dad), so that's what we did. This is my first year making a whole Thanksgiving and let me tell you, it's a lot of work. (Y'all probably already knew that.) I feel rather sorrowful for those who host Thanksgiving every year because I was really slaving in the kitchen today and all I made was (from scratch) a turkey, stuffing, potato gratin, yams with marshmallows and green beans. Yeah, not that much and yet it took the whole day to make. 
It was a very unofficial dinner, probably about fifteen minutes max before we started cleaning the kitchen back up (trust me, it was a mess.) It felt rather wrong without Mama sitting at the table with us, but my mind still hasn't had the full emotion sink in. It's like there's a very strong stone wall in my mind, separating my emotions from the fact. One of these days, the wall's going to break and who knows what will happen then. 
Sorry that this blog post is all over the place, I'm just typing out my thoughts. 
On Wednesday we cremated Mama. She was in a cardboard box and we drew on it with markers. Which was a little strange, I didn't know it was really a thing. But I still liked it, It made it feel like there was a little more closure, I guess. Then I flipped the switch on the cremation burner thingy-majig. I half expected to break down crying at that moment, but all I felt was a sad emptiness. 

I knew my mom would die in the next six months, that was clear when we put her in hospice. What I didn't know was about a week after we put in her hospice, she would die. I don't know why, but I expected her to live past Christmas. Maybe it's because she really wanted to make it to her 60th birthday and I figured since Mama wants to make it there, she will. Because what my mom wants, she gets. Guess not. I've just been really busy this month and regret not spending more time with her. 
It's sort of funny, actually. And by funny I don't mean HAHA funny. I mean ironic. Hospice brought in one of those hospital beds to our den and as soon as I saw it, I called it a 'Dead Bed' because well, it's one of those hospital beds that people have a tendency to die in. What's ironic about that? the first day mom sleeps in it, she dies. 
It was weird, she was sleeping peacefully that afternoon and then in the evening she had a lot of trouble. It was a rather large change. 
Then the day after, the news spread slowly at first, but by afternoon my phone pretty much blew up with loving and supporting messages from friends and family and everyone else. It was really sweet and appreciated but a little overwhelming. So if you were one of those people who I replied "Thanks" or "Thank you" to, don't be hurt by that. I was just overwhelmed and didn't know how to reply to everyone's loving messages but be assured, they were very appreciated. 
I heard from a friend that she was hurt that I send her only "Thanks" while I sent another friend a heart. I was just trying to change things up in my replies, it was nothing personal against anyone. I really appreciated each and every one of the messages I received. 
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Thank you to everyone who sent me messages and has come over to support me. All the support and love being sent my way has seriously been appreciated. 
Special thanks to all my friends who have taken time out of their days to come spend time with me. It really makes me feel better and less alone to have you guys over here with me. 
Thanks to Naomi Roth for coming over and helping me shop for Thanksgiving and bringing over stuff today when I realized somewhere along the way we dropped a bag. 
Thank you to my Aunt Sue for coming down immediately and helping my family out in this crazy time. 

And finally, thank you to my mom for being such an awe inspiring role model. I really appreciated all the time I had with you, getting to know you, and all the time you spent fighting the inevitable to spend extra time with me and Zia. I'll always love you, mom and I'm really going to miss you