“You’re gonna regret it if you don’t go.” Those words stuck with me for a long time and they were right. My not-so-step-dad told me this when I expressed my frustration about missing vacation bible school for my great aunt’s surgery. I was only 14 and I didn’t understand the severity of the situation. Of course she was more like a second mom to me, but I was a volunteer at VBS and besides, they were just removing stones from her gall bladder. I wasn’t given a choice that summer day, I had to sit in a waiting room in some cold hospital I had never been to with a bunch of family that I barely knew.

We waited for what felt like days. I was laid out on the double seat chairs watching ‘Dexter’ on my mom’s Ipad. Finally, the doctor emerged from the double swinging doors. We all gathered around him. He looked so typical wearing creased dress pants, a white coat, and brown old-man loafers. I must have missed something important because all of the women listening walked away in hysterics. The doctor wasn’t done talking though, so I stayed to listen. When he finally gave his diagnosis my stomach dropped. I remember it clear as day.

“It’s cancer, and she’s completely full of it.” I looked straight up at my mom and walk over there slow and timidly. I repeated the phrase that just seconds ago didn’t even exist in my mind. My mom wrapped her arms around me and cried. I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel just yet, so I just stood there and waited for everyone to be done crying.

My step-brother and I were given the task of cleaning out my old room so that my aunt could move in. She was currently bedridden in the hospital. While we were cleaning out the room we were having so much fun finding different things I had almost forgotten the grim reason we were cleaning in the first place. My aunt would be moving in soon and everyone was preparing. She had a dog named Spike, who was her best friend. She lived alone and he had been the only company she had. He was an obese Labrador, Golden retriever mix with Jet black fur and the cutest smile. We kept him for as long as we could, but he had to find a forever home and that couldn’t be my house. There was some woman that my mom had known and she offered to take him and so she did. That was the last I had ever heard of Spike, and I’m sure given the right circumstances that he is still alive to this day.
Life with a dying relative in the house wasn’t the happiest. She had a bell that she would ring if she needed something. I don’t remember much from that time period due to repression, but I do remember the last few days. Everyone except myself was asleep and I heard the bell ring. I tiptoed into the dark room and didn’t turn any lights on. The smell of the hospice care supplies forced its way up my nose like those lights the doctors use when you have a sinus infection. She said something about water and so I got her some, however when I returned with the water she didn’t want it and she kept repeating the word water and pointing to her chest. I didn’t understand what she wanted and honestly, I was just scared. How can any 14 year old feel at ease among someone so close to death you can feel it all around you? My mom figured out that she had felt as if there was water in her chest and finally she went back to sleep. My mom told me that her cracked breathing was called a “death rattle.” My grandmother and my mom’s sister came over that night because we all thought that that was the night. My aunt Jenny didn’t want anyone in the room with her that night. I didn’t understand all of what was going on but eventually it got late and everyone made their way home.

The following day everyone was at my house. The hospice nurse told us it would happen sometime today, my mom called my brother Tyler and told him to get there asap. I remember this part most vividly. I was sat in a rolling chair next to my aunt’s bed and the nurse was in another corner of the room doing something else. I watched her eyes roll to the back of her head and gross black looking slime come out of her mouth. I was the only family in the room with her and the only other person was the nurse. I tried to say something, but I couldn’t find the words so as soon as the nurse noticed what had happened, I stumbled out of the room and into the hallway where my grandma had been walking towards the room. I walked into the kitchen and I couldn’t feel anything except for the hot tears running down my face. I looked up at everyone while they frantically asked me what was wrong and all I could muster out in that moment was “she’s gone.” my brother showed up minutes later and I walked out to the porch and broke the news to him. We went into my room and I sat next to him on the bed while he had his arm around me and he cried. I had never seen my older brother cry like that before. Everything was already paid for since we knew she didn’t have very long. We didn’t have a wake as per my aunt’s request.

A month had passed since my aunt’s passing and I was in the car with my mom on our way home from my friend’s house. She kept both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road when she announced that my dog Lilley had died. She had died of cancer and had been at the vet when it happened. We never spoke of it after.
Three months had passed since my aunt’s passing and it was then December. I was sitting in my second period Honors English 9 class with Mr. Spinks and we were watching Romeo and Juliet. All of a sudden the phone rang. Mr. Spinks answered it, hung up, and then announced that I would be going home and to get my things and head to guidance. I felt something very weird at first. Why was I being called to guidance to check out early rather than the attendance office? And more importantly, why was I being checked out in the first place? I walked down the hallway towards my locker and I called my mom twice, no answer. My mom had been sick and I was worried maybe something was wrong. I got my stuff together in a hurry and quickly walked to guidance. I stepped in and my heart stopped when I saw my step-dad waiting for me to leave. This was strange because if everything was normal it would have been my mom.

“Wheres mom?” I asked him frantically.
“She’s in the car.” was his reply.

We walked out to the car that was parked on the side of the building by the guidance doors and i saw my mom in the passenger seat with the door open. She was sitting in sideways and she held her head in her face. Someone had died, I knew it, I knew her too well.

“Kayla, your brother, Tyler, is dead. He died in a car accident this morning on his way to work.”

We sat there in that parking lot in silence for about 30 seconds but it felt like years. I was about to say that we should go home when I heard one of them say it before me. We drove home and although the car ride was only about 5 minutes I remember it being so slow. I was home a while now and people were in and out of my house like crazy. My mom’s sister, Joyce decided she would take me with to get my two cousins from school before they heard it from someone else. My aunt and I sat on the red bench outside of the office as each of my twin cousins came down. We told them the news and I will never forget the looks of shock on their faces when they looked back at me. One of my cousins left school with us and the other stayed for the day. My best friend Julie decided to come home as well so she could be with me. My cousin Jamie, Julie, and I went out for lunch at a local restaurant to go out of the house for a little bit. While we were dining we noticed an elderly man eating alone, but he didn’t seem to mind too much. We finished our meals and when it was time to pay our waitress told us that someone had already paid for our meal. It’s crazy how big that small gesture was on that day. I will never forget the happiness that the old man made me feel that day.

It was the day of my brother’s wake. I would be there all day. Nothing in my life could have prepared me for that day. I don’t remember a whole lot, but it was awful. My mom, me, and my stepdad all arrived first being that we were immediate family. I remember talking to Andy Boersma, the coroner and funeral director, with my step-dad and Oldest brother trent when we heard this awful wail coming from the viewing area. My step dad muttered something about hoping my mom hadn’t opened the casket. I remember walking into the large room and seeing my mom doubled over, leaning onto my brother’s closed casket and that’s when it was all real. During most of the wake people came up to us and cried and hugged us and told us they were sorry. I don’t really understand wakes. I think it is nice to be able to pay your respects and to say goodbye, but why should a family have an entire day devoted to standing around getting hugs from people they barely know and being sad? I would much rather celebrate their life than linger on the end of it. The funeral was the day after the wake, My brother, Trent drove Tyler to his final resting area in the back of a pickup truck. We all wore jeans and flannels to his funeral because Tyler wasn’t a very dressy person. We got to sit in the plastic chairs covered by green felt up next to the casket. Once the service was over we got to keep a shotgun shell with his name on it. People started to leave and that was the end of it. My brother walked this earth for 21 years and we gave him 2 days of recognition and then it was over.

It has now been almost 3 years since those few months and for a really long time I wasn’t sure that I really learned anything at all from the experience. I see now though that even if I can’t see it directly those few months shaped how I’ve lived my life ever since then. I think about losing people a lot. In fact, it has become my biggest fear. I have since found comfort in my church and my friends who have both become large factors in my grieving process. I try to leave every conversation I have with someone on a happy note because you never know what the last thing you say to them will be.