It was approximately 6:31am on the morning of July 26, 2011. That would be 9 years ago today. 9 years ago today was the day she left. She left and she wasn’t coming back. She left quickly, somewhat suddenly, but peacefully. She exited stage left before her song was over, but while she was here she preformed-and she preformed well. 9 years ago today, my mother closed her eyes for the last time at the young age of 51. This is what I remember about that day:

I was staying at a friends house the night before, however this was not entirely my choice. I was with my mom the night of July 25th, 2011. I was with her until about midnight, actually. Around 11pm, my mom woke me up telling me she was in pain and in need of some pain medication. I remember her soft, fragile voice whispering to me in the middle of the night “I hurt, Chancey.” I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but I remember around midnight my mom’s best friend came to pick me up so I could go hangout with her and her family for the rest of the night and the following day. I was SO angry that she was making me leave. I don’t think at the time I would have ever admitted it, but she was asking me to leave to protect me. She knew she was dying. I was so angry that I was yelling at her, telling her it was dumb for me to be leaving in the middle of the night. Why couldn’t I just go sleep on the couch? She was protecting me. I went to storm out of the room when she gently asked me to come back and give her a hug. So, I did. A hug tight enough to satisfy my soul, but gentle enough not to hurt her tiny, sick body. I will remember this moment for the rest of my life. It was the last time I ever hugged my mom. We hugged longer than normal. She would not really let me go. Looking back…she knew it was the last time I was going to hug her. She kissed me a million times before I left.

I would eventually arrive at my friends house where then I would start receiving texts from my mom.

“I love you! Have fun!

“I’m sorry I made you leave, I don’t feel good.”

“I love you, so so much. So much Chancey. “

“Let’s try again tomorrow, can’t wait to see you.”

Those were the last texts I got from my mom. The following morning, July 26 around 6:30am, I received a different kind of text. A text from my big brother asking me where I was and him telling me he was coming to get me. He showed up about five minutes later. I walked outside, confused and sleepy. There, in the driveway, I saw my tall, brave, strong big brother with tears filling his eyes and his arms open waiting for me to go to him. I started to cry, too. I knew. He did not have to say anything- I knew. We cried the whole way to where my mom was at the time. He was squeezing my hand harder than he ever had. We said no words.

I arrived to where my mom was. There were also police, an ambulance, and eventually a coroner. I rushed into the home and anxiously started to look for my mom. I went to the room I last saw her. There she was. On the floor, life saving efforts had failed. Cancer will do that to your body. She laid there, so I did, too. I laid next to her lifeless body as I begged for her to come back. I knew she wasn’t but I felt better knowing I begged. A nice police officer would eventually pull me off of her so they could continue the body preservation process. I kissed her forehead, still warm. They put her body in a bag and I watched them wheel her into the back of a van. The worst fucking day of my life.

The entire neighborhood came out of their homes and eventually would make a small circle outside of the house. We all prayed together, cried, and the rest of the day was a blur to me. I won’t go into the details the rest of the day, well because I don’t remember. I felt numb all day. I still feel numb on this day…9 years later.

On the day she left, a part of me did, too. I never expected that part of me to come back, but I sure do miss her. I miss every single thing about my mom. Even the most awful parts about her. I’d rather have those parts than nothing at all. However, 9 years gives one a lot of time to heal, grieve, cope and continue to learn how to handle this life without their best friend. I am in a much better place emotionally than I was even a year ago. That’s why I am finally able to recount that day rather than avoid it. It’s a part of who I am, who I will forever be.

Mom,

I have never stopped thinking about you. I have never stopped saying your name. I will never stop talking about you and sharing our stories. I will also show people pictures of you. I play videos of you as often as my broken heart can stand. I still wear your T-shirt to bed most nights. Your favorite bright red lipstick is safe with me. I have your book of poetry I read when I need some healing. I see you when I look in the mirror. I feel you when I hug Sarah Grace. I rejoice when I hear Conor’s laugh….it’s just like yours. The three of us have endured some serious shit since you have left, but we have done it together. We have never left each other’s side. So, together we will keep marching forward in this life. The days often times feel long without you, but we smile knowing you are pain free now.

On the day you left, my world started to look a lot different. It has never looked the same, but I promise I am doing okay. I miss you more than anything in the world. You taught me what love, true love looked like.

On the day you left, I experienced my first (and worst) heartbreak.

9 years.

3285 days.

All spent missing you…since the day you left.