Church Bells chime causing a tingle sensation to up rise, causing me to lose all feeling, and control of my body. My body is on auto pilot. It’s like I’m a zombie walking through this church. Small talk that I don’t remember, being touched and hugged by familiar strangers and the words sorry for your loss keeping ringing in my head. My eyes exploded tears that trickle down my face making my makeup run and forcing me to wipe the mascara on my black dress. I graze the coffin with my hand, it’s cold and lifeless just like my mother now, and it creates sorrow that my mother won’t be here for thanksgiving or any other holiday. She won’t have the glory to say she is a grandmother or even see my kids grow up. She won’t be there to cry at my wedding. She won’t be here for so many things in my life. With each thought it reminds me that Today is a sad day, Today is a day I'm remined of my loss, what I have lost that I will never ever get back no matter how hard I wish. Today is a reminder of a time with happy thoughts and less tears. .A reminder of a promise made that was latter broken.
My mother late at night sat at the oak dinning room table, crying all by herself. I was startled to walk in the kitched and stumble upon this,
“Mom, why are you sobbing?” I questioned She quickly gathered herself, wipping her nose and eyes ands spoke:
“You are leaving me, my oldest and my only girl I have, and you’re leaving. It brings me to tears that you only a few months left at home and then your gone, your an adult you need to spread your wings and fly, you don’t depend upon me like you used to. I have to let you go but I’m not ready.
You are my own flesh and blood; you’re my ray of sunshine. I just don’t know if I keep my sanity.”
A brief amount of silence and several minutes passing and then she asked me,
“Abby darling, can you make me just one promise when you leave in September?”
I promised her one thing, my promised was that I would keep in touch with her even when I left and was at college. I honestly indented to keep the promise I made my mother. We shared a connection or a bond as some people call it. My mother and I shared a bond that we thought could never be broken.
Three years latter, I stand here contemplating my life and thinking about my mother. I think about how I wished I could change her death, myself and not being there for her when she first informed me about the lump she had developed in her breast.. I thought to my self, oh she will have a while until she croaks if she even does. I’ve known many surviors, she will survive too she will be just bald.. Now I just want to punch myself for ever reasoning my mother’s death with those accusations. I was stupid, I was dumb, I was oblivious that my actions could have such a effect on me. I feel numb, and lifeless. I feel as if I could just

All of a sudden I get bumped by distant cousin who almost makes me lose my balance but I catch myself, luckily. Everyone is being rushed into a room, I step in the room and instantly a putrid smell hits my nostrils dead on. The smell rushing up my nostrils, it smells of curdling flesh and perfume, the smell is not what bugs me. It’s the blank stairs I receive as I walk to the front of the room and sit beside my brother he puts his arm around me, Trevor; he’s whimpering to himself with a slightly used tissue in his right hand.
Its outstanding it seems just yesterday we both still lived in our house on Pelton. As for me I’m a spiting image of my mother, her curly, crazy, frizzy hair resembles my own. I look so like her as everyone tells me, my brown eyes are the only difference but as of seventeen I have disguise my eyes with blue contacts. I hide them because they remind me of my father and I despise him ever since I was little. My mother went every way trying to keep up with us, us referring to me and my brother. We didn’t make life easy, we beg and we plead for every new toy or every new game. She then tried her hardest to make sure that every wish of ours always came true, from keeping my imagination going by helping me put the simple tooth under the pillow and giving me ten dollars, which at the time seemed like a lot of money to make sure my birthday celebrations were happy. But my childhood is gone I'm a 21 year old young adult my thoughts are interrupted when a man stands up and says;
“Does anyone have anything left to say.” his voice echoing through the whole room.
Of course all the family stands up and says their good byes. My brother reads a beautiful speech as he reading it aloud, tears began to trickle down her stone cold face and regret and sorrow filled her stomach and she began feeling a melancholy sensation. A great time goes by and he finally finishes reading the touching words he has said about are mother, every one of them being true. He rejoins me and sits right next to me, I has this awkward feeling, I look left and I look right, everyone stairs at me expecting to say something in honor of my mother. I try to move but I cant, I' m petrified I can’t move, my legs are like jello and my voice is mute. Inside I’m screaming to the heavens and saying everything I wish I could. But hoping someone else will stand, I just sit there looking around like everyone else. But their stares burn a hole in my soul. Now she is gone and I didn’t even have the decent of giving her a simple goodbye.
But no one stands, the funeral home is a ghost town, you could hear a pin drop in the silence. People say silence is golden but, for me it’s just plain awkward. My life is just one awkward moment it’s uncontrollable.
I had the perfect word to say in honor of my mother I would have talked about how my mother is the type of person who went out of her way for her children and always put herself below her children. She worked her butt off trying to produce and make life better for her children then a life she had. She is the type of I look up to but I hope to become, not because she is my mother and that’s stereotypical of me to look up to her but its true, most of my life, who was there to pick me up when I scraped my knee? My mother. Who was there to mend my broken heart after a two year break up? My mother. Who was there for every stage of me life? Who was the one who cried when I went off to college? My mother! She wasn’t the perfect mother but I was no doubt a perfect child, but she was still my mother and I was still her child. I wish I could have spoken these words just in honor of her.
I feel sudden rage start building up in myself.
How couldn’t I say anything at my own mother’s funeral? What’s wrong with me? What if my mother hates me now? Will she forgive me not saying anything at her funeral? Will she forgive me for not spending time with her when she got sick? Does she know that I love her, that I’m sorry, that I was a horrible daughter; she raised me ever since I came out of the womb. I was prepared, but the fear inside of me got the better of me. I never will get this opportunity again.
Suddenly were my heart races, I can feel like my heart pumping. I fall to the ground in total agony. Blurred vision consumes my total body, the light is slowly fading, I see everyone panicking and getting up with a quickness, my world has gone black but I can still hear a familiar voice, a voice that resembles my brother voice,
“ABBY!” the voice screeches
I can feel my body getting pushed, pulled in every direction. But I don’t move, I can’t I’m immobilized. I’m, in a deep sleep like a hibernating bear in the winter.
“Abby please wake up, you can’t leave us too.” the voice sobs
I still don’t budge, but reality its self escapes me and I black out completely.

I re-gain coconsciousness and slowly open my eyes, but finding not what I expect, I do not find any family over me, I do not find myself in the church, I do not find myself anywhere recognizable. I blink eight more times just to check if I was dreaming or not. But I still am in the same place. I sit up and look around. I see a never ending room that I’m in. Out of no where a light appears, blinding me and making me fall backwards.
“Abby…. Abby…. Abby.” The Voice uproars, but this voice seems strangely familiar. Then it hits me the voice is the voice of my mothers, the words,

“Mom is that really you?” with a questioning grin
“Yes ray of shine it’s really me.” The voice says

Then it hits me that was the nickname my mother had given me many years ago, when I went away on a school trip.

“MOM!” I screamed in utter joy “I’m so sorry that I didn’t visit you like I said I did. I’m sorry I never visited you when you got sick. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you need me most. I’m sorry.” I say almost sobbing, rambling on until the voice interrupts me.
“Honey shhh shh be quiet for one second, I’m here to give you a message from beyond the grave.” The mother’s soft voice yelps

“What’s the message?” I say hesitantly
“I’m here to tell you, that I forgive you, I was never mad, to be honest I can’t ever be mad at you, you’re my daughter, my everything, my ray of sunshine. No matter the actions you do, I will always love you. I’m here to tell you to stop dwelling on the past, everything will be okay. When you think of me I want you think happy thoughts not sad ones. What happened to me is something that you couldn’t control its something that takes thousands of lives every year. I may be leaving this earth earlier then intended, but I will be looking over you for the rest of your life until the day you join me. Then, we’ll be joined together again forever.” Her voice slowly fading out

A quick panic, tripping over my own feet in spontaneous effort I try and chase the ghostly appearance of my mother, but it’s to late she is gone.
The room starts spinning and I fall to the ground, I instantly feel serious chest pains spreading across my body like disease. The misery I feel in my chest is overwhelming and I feel like my chest is about to give in. The room starts spinning and I black out of no where. I But I don’t wake up right away. I lay there unconscious for hours before I come to, my brother is giving me Cardiopulmonary resuscitation and pushing on my chest still trying to receive me even thought the paramedics say I have no chance in survival. He doesn’t give up and won’t give up until he saves me. This is the first time he truly ever felt my presence gone, making his stomach turn in knots. The paramedics try and pull off my brother, he refuses and tries one more time, breathing in and pumping on my chest. A gust of air rapidly rushes into me and my eyes allow them to open for the first time since I blacked out. The feeling of not seeing was nerve-racking. but I feel my brother’s tear hitting my face. Then his joyous expression shows as soon as he realizes my eyes are open. He quickly grabs me and squeezes me like my grandma does every time I go over her house.