Letters to My Mother in Heaven

By Connie Jo Longamore

Lizzie Jo seemed to always be struggling.  With a tumultuous childhood behind her, adulthood seemed to be trying to keep her in the turmoil.

          When her mother dies, during a three-year period of time, when her mother wasn't speaking to her, Lizzie Jo now has to face all that she had been trying to avoid.

          Her mother's death hit her extremely hard, due to the circumstances, but being the oldest daughter now posed even more problematic situations for her.

          Closure was not going to be easy.  Nor would dealing with the ones left alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamondback Publishers INT.
• Release date: Jul 18, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393778851

Book preview

Chapter One

Why it started

After my mother died, I was really having a hard time coping with her passing.  We had three years of no talking to one another, and I was only able to see her still alive and verbal for ten minutes.  The next day she was moved to another hospital and that is where she died the following day.

I spoke to my aunt, whom I have called Mom for years and who happens to be my mother’s sister, and she told me to write her a letter.  To get everything off my chest in the letter and by writing it all down I would feel better.  She said that as I write the letter, the universe would carry my words to her. 

I’m sure it only made sense to me because I needed something, anything, to make me feel better.  And, so began my letters to Mom in heaven.

Truth is, it did make me feel better, so I continued to write to her.  At first quite often but it did taper off over time.  The frequency seeming to be linked to other events that were occurring in my life.  The more the drama, chaos or importance, the more I wrote.

My brother Charlie had called me and told me that Mom had fallen after tripping on the oxygen line she was wearing.  Oxygen?  When the hell had she started wearing oxygen?  Charlie informed me that she had been transported to the hospital, by ambulance. He then informed me that the hospital requested that she be moved to a better-equipped hospital.  Her kidneys were not doing good and the next hospital was prepared for that.

Charlie wanted me at the hospital for moral support.  Nothing was stopping me from going to that hospital.  I knew my siblings would be there, and that I was the only one mom was not speaking too!  I arrived and Charlie met me in the parking lot.  He informed me that Mom would be getting transported shortly. 

He walked beside me as I walked directly towards my siblings.  Ok!  Which one of you wants to go in to see Mom with me?  It got very quiet and they looked at one another for a volunteer.  Chicken shits!  I will, Sis!  Charlie stepped back and motioned what direction for me to go. 

Once we arrived outside the door of the room she was in, Charlie said, Let me get the grandkids to leave for a minute, okay?  She can only have two visitors at a time in there.  I waited as he went into her room.  The door opened and Trae came out.  When he saw me waiting there, he was speechless, but he did give me a hug.

Charlie opened the door and I entered the room.  He looked at Mom and said, I’m sorry, Mom, she has a right to be here too!  The look on Mom’s face was not anger or distaste, as I thought it would be.  She seemed happy to see me.  I hugged her and she hugged me back.  Wow!  Your hair is getting so long, and mine is falling out!  She said as she hugged me.

Charlie talked with her for a minute about the doctor’s plan to move her out, then he told her he would be right back.  After he left us alone, we made small talk about.  Then she looked at me and said, "I have so many doctor’s appointments and bullshit all the time.  Ram here, ram there, see this doctor and ‘take this medication.’  I’m tired.  I’m worn out, ya know?  I can only imagine."  I told her.

A few staff members entered the room and I had to leave.  I hugged her and told her I loved her.  She told me she loved me too.

I had to return home, but I told my brother to keep me informed of when they moved her and of any changes.  He agreed and walked me back to my car.  We both were happy that it went smoothly, but we both were upset that something bad had to happen to get her and I me to talk again.

He called me the next day to tell me that she had been moved.  He also informed me that they were discussing putting her on a dialysis machine, as her kidneys were failing.  Two years prior, in the same hospital, she had been on the dialysis machine.  She came off from that with flying colors.  We were all left thinking that she would do the same this time.

The very next day, I received a call from my brother Charlie telling me that I needed to get to the hospital as it was not looking good for our mother.  Of course, I rushed to the hospital to join the other six siblings and their families.  I went alone and knew I would be facing my sister and her entire family.  Not sure what to expect, but really didn’t give a shit.  I was going to be there whether they liked it or not.

It was not good news.  She was on full life support and we were, in all actuality called in to say our final goodbyes to her.  So, two at a time, we went into the ICU room she was in to face the gruesome truth that this was it!  My brother Charlie went in with me.  In fact, if it wasn’t for him, I probably would never have gotten a call to go to the first hospital, let alone this one.

I was in shock!  What the fuck?  I just talked to her, sitting up and discussing television broadcasts on some bad weather somewhere.  We were talking, she was talking to me!  What the fuck?  Now all I was going to get to say to her was goodbye?  She was hooked up to so many machines and tubes running down her throat and nose.  Wires everywhere.  NO FUCKING WAY!

During all of this, we asked for a priest to pray with us.  The whole miracle thing, we were grasping for one.  But when we all formed a circle to hold hands to pray, the priest asked us what we wanted to pray for, and it was like everyone just looked at me for the words.  I could only think of one thing to say, Let God’s will be the way.  Everyone agreed and that’s what we prayed for. 

My brother Mark was in jail at the time and his girlfriend was doing everything she could to get him brought to the hospital so that he too could say his goodbyes.  Thank God they allowed him to come to see her. He was not, however, allowed to be near any of us.  He was taken in by an officer and was alone with her.  I was mortified for him having to see her without anyone to hug him or help him cope with what he was seeing and hearing.  He was brought to the hospital in an orange jumpsuit and shackles. He then would have to return to his cell to mourn alone.  It broke my heart.

That day was May 23rd, 2017 and at 5:30 p.m., she passed away, she was 72.  All seven of her kids were able to tell her how much we loved her before she left. Six of us were at her side when she took her last breath.  There were at least thirty people at the hospital, all praying for her.

It would take me almost seven months to the day to start any letters to Mom.  I went through much pain and remorse prior to this.

Being the second child in the lineup of seven, and the oldest daughter, it felt as though much of the family were turning to me for help, answers, negotiations, umpiring and strength.  FUCK! 

I wrote her obituary, handled the ashes, set up the graveside services, ordered the urns and box for the urns and carefully conducted how everything should be played out.  I even told everyone that if they wanted to write her a personal note to be buried with her, they should write it down.  We all did, except brother Mark, as he was not permitted to join the services. 

All this from the only child she did not speak to for three years prior to passing.  Have I said it yet? FUCK!  (which by the way I will probably say many times throughout this book)

December 22,2017

Mom,

I was told to just write a letter to you.  That it would make me feel better.  So here goes.

I just can’t come to