My Mother, Ida Garcia Cruz, was born on November 19th in 1949. Her life ended on August 23rd, 2000. She made it to the age of 50.
Throughout most of my life, I knew she was going to go early, but nobody knows when or where. All that I thought I KNEW was that I was going to die--I could never EVER imagine living life on this earth without the person who had created me in it at the same time. I had lived my teenage years worrying about when it would happened. I wrote many stories just hoping and trying to find some kind of outlet to deal with all the pain and worry. I can't count the number of nights I cried just hoping that she would go easily, and that no pain would come her way.
At first, the doctors said the cancer would give her two years to live. And, That was in the 7th grade! But, my mom was better than that. She outlasted the doctors' date by MORE than 6 years. She was a fighter. She was strong...and bold. At one point, She was my everything. Life revolved around my mom.
Liver failure pronounced at 4:30 am. When my sister called me at 5:00 am to tell me of the news, all I wondered was how I'd be able to get over this. Why did this happen? How did it happen? And, Did it HAVE to happen? I found myself asking all these questions over and over. Confused, Lost, and just outright sadness overcame me.
I drove back to my hometown of Coalinga in Central California. At the Funeral chapel I visited my mother's body. We were having her cremated, but chose to let the family visit the body before the final goodbyes were made. I was the last one with her body. It was cold. Her eyes were still somewhat open so that could you see the brown color of her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her navel with a fuzzy blue blanket covering all but her neck and face. Her mouth looked dry, but there was some sort of small smile on her face. A smile that was natural--something caused by pure...pure...peace. I'll never forget it. The first dead body I had ever seen had to be my mothers'. I kept on staring at it just wondering why there was no movement. No breath...no heartbeat. It wasn't acting; it was real. Just cold reality. I guess it was calm. Cold...but serenity engulfed the moment in a manner that I doubt anybody could describe. Peace, no more pain, no more hospitals. Just sleep.
I said my 'goodbyes' on that dreadful Wednesday in August. I said many, many prayers. I may have said goodbyes but I also told her things I had never told her before. I've never told anybody this, and why I choose to spread it on the internet is unknown to me. I guess, I promised myself that I'd be Valedictorian of my high school just to make my mother proud. I failed...I was saluditorian. Sure, I know it sounds conceited or ridiculous. But, I felt like a failure. And now, I had to make it up. I HAVE to make it up. I will make it up to her.
I told my mother's body that I'd make her proud. I told her that I'd never let her down, and someday she'd look down on me with nothing but a smile on her face.
I wonder if I'll ever see her again. I wonder if I'd ever see her smiling, or laughing. I wonder if one day I'd be able to hug her and hear her say those three words that I had once longed for her to say so bad. I love you. I wonder when I'll see her again.
I don't know all the answers to the millions of questions that ran through my head that night (and still do). But I guess I only know one thing: I'm going to make it through. I'm going to do all the things I promised to her that night. And I KNOW she'll be more proud of me than she has ever been before.
Sometimes I feel empty when I think about how all my friends have their mothers. Sometimes I just hate everything. Sometimes I'll just cry and fall to pieces. But...all I have to do is think back to that promise.
And so, once again, because I know you're listening, and because I know you'll always be close to my heart...
Mom, I will forever love you. And I PROMISE you, someday I'll make you smile up in heaven.
I promise...
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