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Rated: 13+ · Other · Emotional · #1224109
Her happiness ended when the only people she could count on left her.
On a warm June day I received a call from my father. “Diane,” He said,” I need you to come home soon as possible.” Sure dad what’s up? Just come home. I’m on my way, as I hung up the phone I got a very eerie feeling something was wrong.
That was the day my happiness ended









_ The Beginning of the End






“Hi mom, dad,” I said. I noticed the feelings I had were true. I found out my mom had cancer. Leukemia is nothing to mess with though any type of cancer is bad. At that point I thought I was going to fall over. There is no way this is happening, it’s all a nightmare, I will wake up and all will be ok. That was June of 98.
The middle of July mom went to the UMC of Nebraska for a bone marrow transplant. She went through all of her brothers and sisters. There was only one that had a perfect match. The doctor wasn’t sure if it would help because it was pretty advanced. Her whole body would ache and she started noticing that she would have only half of her vision. I remember some days when she couldn’t even get out of bed she was so tired. I would take care of the house while she slept. Mom cut her long beautiful brown hair to her shoulders knowing she would soon lose it all. She had the chemotherapy and the radiation. She lost all of her hair and ended up pretty sick.
Finally, she seemed to be getting a little better until she took a turn for the worst.
My dad and I decided to move to Omaha and stay in the apartments they provided for family. It was close to the hospital and I was able to be with my mom anytime. That was easy but the hardest was yet to come. I remember it as if it were yesterday. My dad and I drove back to Lincoln to get more clothes and to water mom’s plants. She loved plants so much they were everywhere. I loved watching her talk to them. She would even play music for them and sing.
She decided one day that she wanted to go to Lincoln and spend time at her own house. Dad and I tried to talk her out of it but she wouldn’t hear of it. “I am the one dying so I want my wish granted,” she growled. We brought her home though she was not to leave Omaha. Her energy drained on the trip home. Her frail body had become weaker. She slept the whole time she was home. I made coffee for her and she couldn’t stomach the smell. She was ready to ride back to Omaha.


I made sure that I bathed her and cooled her off since it was summer. She could barely walk to the bathroom. Her nurse would show up at the apartment to give her fluids through an IV and check her vitals. It got to the point that I had my child on my hip and mixing mom’s IV bag at the same time. It was hectic at first and finally I got the hang of it. I cringed at the vile that I used to mix her medication from. It was a glass vile that I would have to cover the skinny end with an alcohol pad and break it open. I was in fear of cutting the crap out of my hand, I made it work though. I wanted to do that more than use the needle to insert the medicine into the bag. I shook so much I am surprised I didn’t drop the needle or pass out.
The next morning I heard mom yell for me and not my dad. I ran to see what was wrong. She had messed herself and it didn’t look good. I told dad what had happened and we rushed her to the hospital. I was worried I mixed her IV the wrong way. I was relieved to find out I did it right but I wasn’t relieved to find out that she was getting deathly sick. I went back to the apartment without any clue of what would be next. My body was weak, my head hurt, along with my heart. I stared at the wall with only one thing on my mind and she was in the hospital.
Dad walked through the door with a somber face. “What are we going to do Diane?” His eyes welled with tears, he fell to his knees. “I can’t lose her Diane; I don’t want to live without her.” I held my dad tight while I remained strong. “I am here dad, you won’t be alone.” I fought hard not to break down because I knew as soon as I did; dad would be the next one in the hospital. I got on the phone to call family with the news. I really wasn’t ready to deal with them because they didn’t like me. I am the step-daughter and I don’t belong in the family. I called them, while living in a one bedroom apartment where I slept on the couch got pretty crowded as family arrived.
I felt like a sardine in a can with no one but enemies. I could not bear to stay there any longer. I told dad that I wanted to see mom. “Diane I really don’t think you can handle seeing your mom in the condition she is in,” he replied. I knew he was right but come hell or high water I would be there. I made it to the door. I had to wash my hands with antibacterial soap before I entered. I walked into this white box of a room with a hard chair, the smell of rubbing alcohol, and oxygen. I heard this noise that sounded like an inhale and exhale but in rhythm. I thought to myself,” You should turn back.” I kept walking slowly to the corner. I saw the white sheet over my mom’s feet. My heart pounded, my body trembled, and I started to hyperventilate as I heard beep…beep…beep it sounded as the machined pumped. I saw nothing but tubes everywhere. Her eyes were closed; she had a tube that went from her mouth to a breathing machine. I looked at her as I followed all the tubes were hooked up to her lifeless body. My head seemed as if I were in the twilight zone. The walls closed in on me as everything started turning dark. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t talk my legs were jelly. I fell against the wall as I hyperventilated. The nurse had to pretty much carry me out of the room and provide a wheel chair.
Dad carried me to the car as I tried to gather my thoughts. “I want to go back dad, I have to!” I cried. “You almost collapsed Diane.” He replied. I thought of the last thing I told my mom. I promised that I would not leave her side no matter what the consequence. I would be there till she stopped breathing. I stayed at the hospital day in and out just to take care of mom. I couldn’t eat or sleep, all I could do was watch the machines hooked to her. The nurse entered the room only to find me wide awake by mom’s side. “Young lady you need to sleep or you will be barred from here,” She demanded. When she would enter the room I would pretend to be asleep because there wasn’t any way in hell I would leave.
I sat in the cold, noisy room reading to mom. I watched as the breathing machine pumped up then down. I kept telling myself this is a nightmare. I lay there waiting for some type of sign that mom would open her eyes. I watched the heart monitor fluctuate numbers. I turned my head for only a second, alarms sounded as nurses gathered in the room. I was sent to the waiting room only to wait till they would let me back in. “why did they send me out, I don’t understand, I want to see mom!” I waited in fear to see if my mom was gone. What will I do if they tell me she is dead?
The nurse came to the waiting room to let me know I was able to go back to my mom that it was a false alarm. I was so nervous just thinking it was the end for her. Come to find out she had started choking on her tube because she woke up from the anesthesia that kept her asleep. My heart fluttered all night as I watch the monitors and waited for them to sound again. My nerves just about had it that night; I was ready for mom to come home. Here I was again listening to the hiss of the breathing machine as it breathed in and exhaled for her. Then that annoying beeping sound of the heart monitor drove me crazy because I could hear it even when I slept. There was no sleep for me that night because I couldn’t something about that night kept me from resting.
Mom never wanted to be on a life support machine, if she knew what I knew at that point there would be problems. The respiratory therapist stopped in to check on the life support machine. I talked to the guy and asked him if mom was on life support. “Yes, this is a maximum life support,” He answered. I just about screamed when he told me that. I couldn’t believe they lied to me and said it was just a breathing machine. I talked to the guy a little longer and soon I knew everything about the machine, when she breathed and when the machine breathed for her. The numbers he told me kept me on my toes because then I would know if she stopped breathing. I shouldn’t have asked questions because by then I was glued to the machine. Leave it to me on asking too many questions.

That night I dreamed of angels and fancy gates whisking my mom away along with her long brown wavy hair, flowing in the wind with a long, lacy white gown. I reached out to her begging for her to take me with her but it was like she couldn’t hear me. It seemed as if I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I woke up panting as if I ran a marathon; I didn’t want to sleep again that night. I sat staring at my mom in silence as I wondered how long she would stay alive. I wanted so bad to just make her better but I couldn’t. Chewing at my fingernails, I decided to read the Cosmopolitan magazine to mom, though I am sure if she were able to talk she would tell me to stuff it. She didn’t like that magazine to well because she claimed most of it was bologna. I always laughed at her when she told me that.
Mom was and will always be my best friend; I always caught hell when I said something that didn’t make sense because she knew how to get to me. It seemed to me we were more sisters than mother and daughter. She never let me down nor did she treat me like a child. I was more her confidant and best friend. We went through a lot together and I promised her that I would be there for her till the day she takes her last breath. I wanted so bad the day that I found out she had cancer to trade places with her so she wouldn’t have to go through this but, I guess, it wasn’t my turn. I suppose I was meant to stay on this earth for something.
Days seemed to go by slowly and I got to the point I was living in the room with mom.
Dad came to see her a couple times and to bring me dinner and wait till I went to the apartment to shower , then I would come back to be with mom. I couldn’t leave her side that long. It seemed my showers lasted 2 minutes then I was right back with mom. Dad got to the point where he drank his self out of his worries. It was more less that I, Diane, was the strong one. Little, did I know, I wasn’t strong enough for anything at that point.
I sat wondering if one day mom would go into remission. I had hoped this was only a night mare in which I would wake up and all the dark and sad times would just disappear. I wanted this to end, I wanted to live our lives as normal, I wanted mom back. Here we were in the near the end of July and mom was still in bad shape. I, myself, wanted to drink and forget this was happening. I lay awake, most nights crying because I wanted this over.
In the beginning of August, mom seemed to be getting better though she was still under medication to sleep. The life support machine was still hissing at me, as I watched it move up and down. The alarms still sounded at least once or twice a day. I read to her daily, filed her nails and sang to her hoping to get her through this. Life seemed a bit awkward at times not knowing what would happen next. One day she was getting better, the next it was call in the family. It was so confusing not knowing how to feel or how to act during the times the doctors would come in. I didn’t know who to believe.
On August 17, 98 I woke up to the screaming sound of the alarms again. I looked over at mom and noticed her heart rate started jumping on the monitor. The nurse walked in to the room and managed this look of disgust because she needed suctioned out. Mom had contacted pneumonia again and this time it was severe. I sat up all night this time not blinking because I knew the time would come soon.
The respiratory therapist came in again to check on the machine again. I talked to him about mom’s breathing and well comet to find out she had stopped breathing sometime during the night. I almost bit the therapist head off when he told me that because no one told me anything. I cried so hard that night and I tried to tell dad about it but he wouldn’t believe me, because he said the doctor told him it was just to help mom breathe better. Later that day, dad found out the hard way when I talked to the doctor and he hesitated to tell us that, yes, it is maximum life support that she is on. My dad managed to not shoot the doctor, because mom said she didn’t want to be on a machine like that. Dad thought it was an oxygen machine. Dad told me to keep a watch on her, I told him that mom wasn’t breathing yet he ignored the fact I told him because he wanted to get a hold of the family again for the hundredth time.
The 18, of August dad decided that he and I needed a break so we decided to run to Lincoln and water mom’s plants. We had many plants to water because mom was a plant collector and she had a green thumb for any type of plant you could name. Dad went into the garage at their six bedroom two story house that looked like a doll house inside. He picked up his tools while I watered the plants and picked up a little around the house. It seemed that the day was normal until the phone rang at a quarter till seven.
“Mr. Cheek, you need to get here as soon as possible, your wife’s eyes are affixed and dilated,” the doctor quoted. My dad rushed to grab his keys and a six pack of Budweiser, got in the truck and we were on our way. That day was scary for the fact my dad flipped on his hazards, laid on the horn and ran every red light he approached. He was not thinking at all because the six pack was almost gone he drank it so fast. I really don’t think he tasted it at all. He even came to a road that was being worked on by construction, we didn’t stop, and he drove right through the men at work. We didn’t speak one word the whole trip.
The family members were still at the apartment because many didn’t have the money to run in and out of state on a daily basis. Dad and I ran into the hospital to find out what was going on. The doctor finally decided to admit mom had stopped breathing on her own and that things weren’t looking good at all. Dad decided that it would be better for me to stay with mom since he was in no shape to handle the obvious. I would say that was the longest night I ever had at that point in time. The alarms wailed every few minutes and that damn life support machine drove me crazy. The sound, smell, doctors, nurses and alarms, my head started to swim with every emotion you could think of.
Daylight approached as I heard the shrill sound of the alarms again. This time the doctor among, I would say five or six nurses, came in along with a big man as I call him head doctor. Here it was August 19, the doctor called dad and I into an office type room. He explained to us that mom was no longer with us. Her brain had hemorrhaged and her body shut down completely. That if we wanted to keep her alive then we would need to keep her on the life support forever, even then she would remain a vegetable for the rest of her life. I sat there staring at the wall trying not to cry in front of dad, I still had to be the strong one. I was tired of being strong, I wanted to just let go and scream or something. I had to be, my mom and dad needed me, as much as I needed them.

Dad stumbled out of the hospital to smoke a cigarette, he almost collapsed. He stood staring at the truck and fighting back the tears, he told me he didn’t think he could be there when they pull the plug. I explained to him I would do it because I promised mom I would be there. He finally looked at me with his big, tear filled eyes and told me that the only way he can be in the room is if I held his hand. I told him I would do whatever it took for him to be there with mom. Dad took the last drag of his cigarette and we walked arm in arm back to mom’s room.
The doctor needed dad and I to sign the papers to unplug the machines, I hesitated at first as my hand trembled while signing my name. The priest met us at the room where many others gathered to say goodbye. I stared at mom thinking that any minute she would wake up and say get this damn stuff off me. I imagined she would throw a fit because she had this tube in her throat. I slowly proceeded to pick up the nail file and polish remover to do mom’s nails but it was time. The doctors and nurses gathered to remove the machine. I thought for awhile what it was like to have mom around.
I thought of the time when mom and I sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and listening to dad and a friend of his sing. Dad was so drunk that night that he didn’t realize his friend sounded like a hound dog. Mom started laughing so hard she spit coffee across the room. I had never seen her laugh so hard. Then there was another time when I refused to do the dishes I thought I could run away from her by going outside. She waited till I came back in the house and well I got swatted and still had to do the dishes. I miss those days I thought.
The first machine that was unhooked was the life support. It sounded like a tire going flat as it shut down. My heart skipped a beat when I heard it stop. It looked as though mom was still breathing at first then I noticed she started slowing down. The priest started praying as the doctors took everything off her. The alarms wailed again and this time they didn’t stop. Dad had a hold of the side of her bed rail as everything started stopping. He shook the bed hard and screamed why, then, he had to leave the room for a minute. I held mom’s hand as I watched the numbers go down. I never knew how long it took for someone to die after being let go but man, it was hard standing there without crying.
I looked at mom then the numbers that dropped and then back at mom, my world was crashing and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I talked to mom as she was leaving, mom, I want you to know I love you and I will miss you. I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to take care of dad and Desiree. You can go now; it is ok for you to go. Just remember I love you and you will always be with me no matter where I go and what I do. It seemed odd at first when I was talking to mom but then I knew it needed to be done because I needed to tell her how I felt.
The day seemed to go on forever, all I could do was stare and repeat I love you mom. I couldn’t think of anything but her. I wanted to say goodbye to her but I couldn’t because I couldn’t believe she was going to be gone in a matter of minutes. The heart monitor showed her heart beat. It was getting lower by the minute but it took what seemed to be almost an hour. Her body started to fade, what used to be a creamy pinkish color suddenly started to turn purple, blue, and then to gray. Her body started getting cold to the touch and her heart rate dropped to 10 and slowly it finally hit zero. I still had a hold of her hand and couldn’t bring myself to let go. My dad tried to tell me it was time to go but I looked at him and started screaming from no where ,”NO, NO, NO!” I remember hitting him on the chest and bawling at that point. The nurse took dad out of the room and told him to let me say my goodbye since I had spent all my time at the hospital taking care of her.
I laid my head on mom chest hoping to hear a heart beat. I finally dried my eyes after a couple minutes and reached for the nail file again and the nail polished remover. I told the doctors to leave mom alone because I was going to make sure she was beautiful before she reached those pearly gates. I filed her nails and painted them because her nails were always long and that was how she liked them. I also sat and read a little of cosmopolitan to her and talked to her as I always did before. I walked over beside her and covered her up telling the nurse, I didn’t want mom to get cold. I lost all my train of thought at that point. I couldn’t think of anything else. That day till the funeral was nothing but a blur.
My dad had so many papers to fill out that I was doing most of them because dad couldn’t think to sign anything. Dad had to figure out how to get mom flown to Illinois without it costing an arm and a leg. I do know that dad was willing to sell his soul to get mom where she wanted to be. That day after signing everything and getting everything packed it didn’t take very long to get back to Lincoln from Omaha. Dad and I had to get away from there.
Dad and I made it to Illinois and stayed with some of the family. I will say that it was almost as bad as being in Omaha Nebraska. The family wanted to argue over who got to do this or that and what the color of the casket would be and just stupid things that had nothing to do with the funeral. I wanted to throw something at them and tell them to shut the hell up. I tried to stay out of the situation until the sister of my mom tried to put me down in the obituary as being the step-child, which almost caused a big fight. It is true she wasn’t my real mother but, hey, she raised me most of my life since I was five years old. My real mother was no where to be found. I wasn’t going to let this woman put it down that I wasn’t her real daughter.
The fun part of the planning (sarcasm) was when all the women of the family wanted to go dress shopping for mom. Oh my, I thought my dad was going to rip everyone a new ass. He finally decided to take Joanne which was the only one out of the whole family besides me that cared enough to help for anything. Every one else wanted to know what they would get after mom died. It was ridiculous; they were more, less after her stuff that she had inherited through the years. I was only able to shake my head and walk away.
It was finally time to plan the funeral and get things in order. Everyone finally decided to shut their traps until the funeral planning was over. Technically, they didn’t have a place in hell as far as mom’s stuff because she signed everything over to my daughter since that was her pride and joy. My mom didn’t do anything unless my daughter was on her hip. I was not able to explain what happened to grandma. I thought I should wait till everyone was away and we were alone to explain it to her. My problem was how.


The day went on and everyone was uptight about who was doing what. It was one disaster after another. My dad had to borrow money from a bank to get the casket and the church. It seemed as if he was trying to hard, he wanted everything perfect. No matter how hard he tried the family complained that it wasn’t good enough. I didn’t see anyone at all chip in to help dad with anything. Joann tried to help but she was broke because she gave up her job to help with mom. It went on so long that we had to ignore everyone.
The day of the funeral everyone showed up and I saw people I never knew existed. It was a day of stress and everyone was still in a mood to gripe about things that made no sense at all. I made up the song list that was to be played at the funerals, which were Loretta Lynn Gospel Hits and Mariah Carey’s one sweet day. Everything was cool except my dad thought I was going to play rap at mom’s funeral. I already had the ok from mom before she died because I read the lyrics to her. The funeral was about to start as everyone sat down and prepared themselves. I on the other hand was not prepared because Desiree started getting edgy and didn’t want to sit still. Joann decided to take Desiree for a walk to calm her down along with herself. I couldn’t get up because I would soon be singing One Sweet day for mom.
The minister started talking and people started weeping. He said the Lord’s Prayer and people got up to say kind words about mom. I was fine until it came to the point of me singing. I had to sit in my chair because my legs were like jelly. My dad sat next to me not saying a word and not yet crying until I started to sing the song. I started choking back the tears at that point and dad reached for my hand. He started singing part of the song too. He wasn’t sure of some of the words but he tried. Then Desiree walked up to the casket and laid a bright red rose next to mom’s picture. I think at that time everyone started crying because Desiree hugged the casket. I grabbed her and held her so tight that I couldn’t let go. I didn’t know what to say to a 2 year old child that has no clue. What do you say?
After the funeral everyone left and we started back to Nebraska, another long trip without talking. I never knew how boring a trip could be until it remained quiet and not even the baby talked much at all. We stopped along the way for food and breaks but it seemed as if we would never make it home, when we did make it home it just didn’t feel right. I ended up moving home with dad and keeping up the house for awhile. It wasn’t right, I mean being there without mom just seemed…wrong. I couldn’t sleep at night because I dreamed of her, I didn’t want to do much of anything but sit in a corner and hide. This was the point that I would no longer smell mom’s cooking nor would I share that cup of coffee with her in the mornings. It wasn’t fair, it’s not fair.
In September of 98 I received a call to go to work for Wendy’s and I accepted. I had applied months earlier way before mom got sick. I thought what the hell, why not, so I started as a cashier, serving many customers that were nice and also idiots that really never knew what they wanted. I wasn’t quite able to keep my sanity due to the fact mom had recently passed on. Dad decided to drink himself over mom and well the child had many questions she wanted answered and dad drank more. I was glad to go to work and deal with the many citizens that came in for cheese burgers and fries.
I had dated this guy named Charles for almost but not quite a year, and he wasn’t someone that most parents wanted their child to be with. Dad wasn’t his best friend but he tolerated him to a point. I remember when I was alone with mom, she hinted that I looked pregnant at one point and I didn’t believe her because I was on the pill. I guess I was so caught up on taking care of mom I never noticed if I missed a pill or not, let alone my cycle. The time came when it was to arrive and nothing happened. I got a little worried about that. One night Charles and I walked over to what used to be Hinky Dinky and picked up a pregnancy test, sure enough it showed positive. It had this bold looking blue line along with another blue line. I didn’t quite know how to feel besides the fact I almost beat the crap out of Charles, then hugged him and hit him again. I finally got scared because dad had enough on his mind at that time.
I made it home that night and thought of how to tell dad about me being pregnant. I cried myself to sleep that night and woke up that morning with dad drinking again. Charles didn’t quite know what to say because he was nervous so he made himself extinct. He decided to go buy cigarettes. That morning seemed to last forever, dad talked for hours that day trying to tell me how he felt about mom being gone. I held in every emotion I could just to help him with his grief, I put mine aside.
The next day came and went, dad slept all day and Charles went to work. That night dad and I sat and watch a movie and everything seemed normal until I stood up. I had noticed a pain radiate down my legs from my stomach. It felt as if someone took a sharp knife and ripped it down my side. I walked to the kitchen as best I could without dad noticing and poured a cup of coffee. I stood at the sink shivering and trembling in pain. If I walked the pain would almost drop me to the floor like a brick. I finally walked into the living room and gave in, I told dad I needed to call ask a nurse because my side was acting up. I didn’t want to tell him still, I lied and told him it was a cyst on my ovary.
Dad started to get a little anxious watching me tremble, my legs started to buckle under me and dad didn’t know what to think. I called ask a nurse and they wanted me to come in. I didn’t go because I was sure they would tell my dad and then what? He would stress over that too. I told dad I would go lay down and if it got worse then I would go to the hospital with no argument. I went to the restroom and noticed I was spotting, that told me what was going on; I was having a miscarriage. I went to bed and cried as I held my stomach and muted my cries of pain. The next morning I was scheduled to work and I went. I told Charles and by then I was not myself anymore, I worked through the pain.
I started learning how to make sandwiches and do more than one thing at a time at Wendy’s. I stood at the counter with my legs crossed and wincing with pain. The manager seemed to know what was going on and that scared me at first. She made me walk to the back office and sit down. I held my stomach as that knifing pain still haunted me. She told me she knew that I was having a miscarriage because she went through one just recently. My job was in jeopardy if I didn’t go to the hospital after work, we were all like family there so I had to do as I was told.
I managed to get to the hospital and have them tell me I was pregnant but not anymore. I had lost the baby and that was that. The doctor gave me pain killers and sent me on my way. I took my note in to work so they would know I went. I wasn’t happy with the fact that I was pregnant and mom died. I felt as if I had been jinxed or something. I went home later that day wishing I hadn’t went into the hospital and wishing I hadn’t ended up miscarrying. I didn’t know what would happen next now that my life had twisted into a ball.
I worked at Wendy’s for a few months and now it was almost Thanksgiving. I didn’t have the heart to celebrate the holidays, because I wouldn’t have mom there to cook our wonderful meal, she always worked so hard on. I did have to celebrate because dad invited a bunch of people over and as usual he was drinking his Christian Brothers Brandy and getting blitzed. He never once asked me if I would cook, he assumed, I would because he nominated me for it. I wanted so much to tell him to stuff it that day but I bit my tongue and went on my way. The worst part about it was when he decided to take a trip to Kansas with a friend of his for almost a week. I found out later why that was. I was hoping it was a joke and that it wasn’t true but to my fear it wasn’t.

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