Scattered Ashes

By Olivia Marie

"Your mom's in the hospital again."

It was the same as so many times before. She was sick again and they made it sound dire. Fighting with the choice to drive back to my home state or wait it out was never easy.

But the way they pushed, I felt like that time was different.  Maybe it wasn't a false alarm and I should be by her side.

Her only daughter, for the past forty years it had been up to me to hold things together when they threatened to fall apart.

But who would hold me together when my world crumbled and the ashes scattered?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crazy Ink
• Release date: Oct 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201256432

Book preview

Dedication

There hasn’t been a day that’s past where you haven’t been on my mind. I love you and miss you so much; the hurt feels like it will never leave. I know you are better now, and I know you are finally able to feel happy instead of broken. I’m now left to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart as I wait to see you again. As I sit here and write this, tears streaming down my face, I try to hear your voice or feel your hugs. I would give anything for one more day with you, but until that happens, I will carry you in my heart.

If you read Unbreakable, then you already know about the relationship I had with my mom. There were many ups and downs and times of uncertainty. In a lot of ways, I felt like the parent, and she was the child.

It wasn't her fault. Everything that a child stands for was ripped away from her at such a young age, it broke her. She couldn't handle the pain that was tossed on her over and over and found her own ways to cope through her living hell.

It didn’t help her, and it made it hard for her to raise children of her own. She tried so hard to love us the way she was never loved. She gave us all she had, and she never felt like she was worth loving.

I couldn't have disagreed more.

She was everything good and kind. Giving freely all the love she probably wanted as a child, she put all of her in showing me what it was to be selfless.  She was my mom and she was a big reason why I turned out the way I did.

If it wasn't for her showing me how strong she was, I know I wouldn't have been either.

I miss her so much and would give anything to hear her voice, touch her face, or hear her say I love you my sweet girl one more time.

I hope this helps even one person remember her. I know I'll never forget. There’s no way I can. The world is a colder place without her in it.

To the broken angel, my mom: I can’t wait to see you spread your wings and finally fly. I love you always.

CHAPTER ONE

September 25, 2020

My phone rang and I looked down to see who was calling. I huffed as the name Mom flashed across the screen. I had talked to her less than a day ago and was sure I knew what she was going to ask me again. I was in the middle of working and was in a rush to get it done. I slid the talk button and waited for the conversation to get over.

Hi Mom.

Hi honey. Is this a bad time? she asked the same as every time she called me.

Nope. What’s up? I asked hiding the annoyance at the interruption.

Nothing much. I talked to the back doctor today.

Oh yeah? What did they say? I felt bad for getting upset when she mentioned the doctor. I was the one that told her to call me when she went there that day. I wanted her to tell me what they said right away because if she didn’t, she would forget most of it.

Well, she wants me to try physical therapy for a few months and see if that helps with anything. I’m not sure how I feel about it.

I thought you already tried that?

I did and it didn’t help much, she said, her voice dropping low.

It’d been over a year since she had back surgery and nothing had felt right for her since. I’d seen the way she would lean to the right when she was sitting and how hard it’d been for her to get up and walk without any help from a walker or wheelchair. It was hard to watch her shrivel away and not be able to do even simple tasks, but she’d been there before and always bounced back. I was sure if she listened to the doctors, she would be able to do it again.

What happens if they can’t fix it that way? I asked her, trying to get her to talk some more. I wanted her to feel like I cared about it because I did.

They’ll have to operate on it again.

I don’t know how I feel about that. Last year when they operated, you ended up in a coma for three days and I thought I was going to lose you. I could still see her lying there not moving and them trying to figure out what was going on and why she wasn’t waking up. I was told to be prepared for the worst.

I know. I don’t want to do the surgery either, but I might not have a choice. It isn’t looking like they want to try much more than these dumb exercises.

Did they ever get the infection in your back taken care of?

No. I still have to take the antibiotics twice a day for another six months. I hate getting the shots, but they said it’s helping. I could picture her sitting in her wheelchair and putting her hands up at how long everything had gone on for her. Through it all, she hardly complained, and she never seemed to give up.

How can they keep you on them that long?

I don’t know, baby.

I know you’ve had a hard time walking. Is that getting any better?

No. Now it hurts to get out of bed, so I spend most of my time laying down and watching TV. They make me get up and try to walk, but it hurts so much.

Mom.  I wanted to take all her pain away, but I knew I couldn’t.

My heart hurt every time she said that. The year before she was rushed into emergency surgery because of a twisted large intestine. They removed the damaged parts, but it left an infection in her spine that almost cost her her life. She was in the hospital for almost two months and in a coma for three days. It was in that time I came home and sat with her while she slept. It was also the first time I realized I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet.

Having been suicidal many times during my childhood, I thought I was prepared for the day she succeeded in her attempts to leave us. Watching her in that hospital bed knocking on deaths door made me realize I wasn’t even close.

She looked so small then with all the tubes hooked up to her and the blankets swallowing what was left of the once overly plump woman who gave me life. I hated to see her laying there like that and would take a washcloth to her face with warm water and try to make her feel better. Her hairbrush was in her bag, so I took it and gently started to get the snags out of her long, salt and pepper hair. It wasn’t the first time I had taken care of her like that, but it was the scariest time.

She fought hard though and said it was for me. If I wasn’t there, she would have killed herself so she wouldn’t have to feel the pain any longer. It was so hard to hear, but in many ways, I got it. They moved her to a nursing home the first of January 2020 and then the pandemic hit. In full lockdown to protect the vulnerable adults inside the home, I hadn’t been able to see my mom since she was released from the hospital before Thanksgiving the year before.

I’ll be okay baby, she said. I knew she was in pain, but she still wanted me to feel alright. Do you think you can do me a favor?

What’s that?

I’m getting low on diet cola. Can you get me some and I will pay you for it?

I just got you a bunch last week. Are you out already?

No, but I’m low on the cola. They only sent the other two kinds and that one is my favorite.

I’m short this week, Mom. Can we wait until next Friday and then I can order it for you? I hated telling her no, but it was easily fifty dollars each time I had to order it since I wasn’t in the state and had to pay to have it brought to her.

Sure, baby.

Thanks. As soon as I get up Friday, I will get it on the way to you.

Sounds good.

What else is going on for you? I asked hoping to get off the topic of soda.

Remember my roommate that was coughing really bad and keeping me up at night.

Yes. Why is she coughing?

I don’t know.

Are they doing anything for her? Is it Covid? I asked, worried that she was in the same room as my mom.

No. They had us both tested and we were negative. She didn’t wake up for a few days though. All she did is sleep and cough.

I don’t like that. Are they doing anything for her? I asked again.

Not much. They kind of ignored her.

That’s not good.

No. Anyway, she died a few days ago.

Oh Mom, that’s horrible.

"I know. I felt so bad for her. She was all alone when she died. I mean I was