Phyllis Maria Cologera

My Phone rang.

It was the Hospital.

"Your Mother is coding. We are performing CPR, trying to get her back."

"What???? How??? I'm on my way!"

It was 6:59pm. Thursday, May 31st, 2018

My Husband and our Kids were standing right there with me, in the Living Room. I could not get the words out, but instead I collapsed onto the Floor. I can't explain it. My knees just buckled. I was shaking.

Finally, I told my Husband that I had to go.

"Well, you're not driving. I'll get you there."

We told the Kids that we'd be back and we got into Dan's Car.

Dan called the Hospital to verify where we were going. We were almost out of the Driveway.

Seven-O-Four:

The Hospital informed Dan that it was too late. Their efforts to bring her back had failed.

"Tell them I'm still coming! Tell them we'll be there!"

He did, and off we went. I screamed and cried the entire way there. I couldn't grasp the situation.

She wasn't sick. She wasn't old.

So how? How did this happen? WHY did this happen?

I needed answers desperately. But first, I just needed to see her.

We live about 20 minutes away from the Hospital. But somehow, it didn't take us that long to get there this time.

We walked in. There was so much sadness on the faces of the Nurses as we walked up and asked where she was. They apologized repeatedly and told me where to find her.

We found the Room. I peered in. I saw her. Once again, my Knees let go and I was on the Floor.

"You shouldn't go in." He said.

"I have to. I am going to her."

A few minutes later, I was on my feet and at her side.

I was touching her face. I was holding her left hand that was resting on her chest.

She was so cold.

I felt so stupid, but I thought that if I just put some blankets on her she'd warm up. She'd come back.

"Honey, you know that won't......" He said.

But her face. Oh my Gods, her face.

This was a Woman who wasn't afraid of anything. At least, she never showed it. Not to me. Not to anyone. She was always, by all appearances, absolutely fearless. She took everything life threw at her and just handled it with bravery and sheer defiance.

She was terrified.

My Mother was terrified.

Her beautiful Blue Eyes were open.

Her Mouth was open.

Her right hand was clenched.

She was terrified.

And that is how it ended for her. She was completely terrified.

As I stood there with her, touching her face, asking her "Why?", Dan went out to speak to the Nurses at the Station. He wanted answers. I wanted answers, but I wasn't thinking of that. Not yet.

Right now, I just needed to be with her.

I looked at her and noticed she was missing her Scapulars. She had 2 that she always wore---She never took them off. Not for as long as I can remember.

They were gone.

I searched the drawers. I searched the closets. Everywhere.

But, they were gone.

The Nurses said they didn't know where they were.

I let it go.

I just needed to be there, with her.

I pulled the bottom of the Sheet up and looked at her Feet.

Those Feet. The Feet that hadn't touched the ground in 33 years.

There they were.

I rubbed them. I rubbed her legs.

She always said that she and I had the same Legs. Legs just like her Aunt Celia. Really thin, but shapely. Chicken Legs.

I rubbed them. I got her ready to take that first step that she so desperately wanted to take for 33 years.

Finally, I touched her face once more. I kissed her. And I whispered:

"You're ready now, Mom. Use those feet. Use those legs. I love you."

We made our way to the Nurses' Station. They told me that they had paged the Doctor. He was on his way to talk to me.

We sat in the Waiting Room, and we waited.

After a while, I noticed the time. I needed to get Home and get ready for Work.

I know...

That's the last thing I needed to be thinking of. But, I wanted to.

Dan spoke to the Nurses again who assured him that the Doctor was on his way.

He arrived a few minutes later.

He was visibly sad. He explained that they did everything that they possibly could.

He offered an Autopsy.

I declined.

In fact, I said "Not one more cut on her Body."

She'd had enough of all that in her 67 years.

No. Absolutely not. Not one more cut.

He explained that an Autopsy wasn't really necessary anyway. They knew what had happened. They were 99% sure of what caused her death.

That was good enough for me. It would just have to be.

Her Face. That was proof enough. It all made sense, yet no sense at all.

I didn't go to Work. Instead, I went home and collapsed into the arms of my Children, and I cried.