Rrrrrinnnng, Rrrriinnnnnng…..the phone rang 7 times; “Where is she?” I hung up and dialed again. “Hello,” an unfamiliar voice answered. “Hi, may I please speak with Ms. Johnson; this is her daughter?” There was a long pause, then “She’s with the doctor right now; I’ll let her know you called.” An hour later…my 10 year old brother, 3 year old sister and I were told our mom passed away.  Stunned to silence, I realized I’d called the hospital while Mom was transitioning. May 18, 1986 – a day I will never forget. At the tender age of 14, my entire world collapsed…

Five days earlier, Mom called me to her bedroom. As I crossed the threshold, I immediately sensed worry, uneasiness and fear. Lying in her bed, I nestled close to feel the warmness of her love and embrace. In an unstable voice, Mom informed me she wasn’t feeling well and my uncle was on his way to take her to the hospital. She cupped my face in her warm soft hands and tried to reassure me everything would be fine, but I saw the fear in her eyes. I cried and laid my head in her throbbing bosom; the familiar aroma of her perfume filled my nostrils and provided a moment of comfort. As an infant, her bosom was my source of life-support, and then, as if summoned on queue, her bosom purposed as my of solace and security.

Mom’s sweet and calming words of wisdom advised me to protect and care for my younger siblings, while she was away. Love them unconditionally, lead by example and support them untiringly was my mission. Unbeknownst to me, Mom extended me the rites of passage into surrogate motherhood that day. She cuddled me and  whispered motherly comforts of love and pride. For those few minutes, we enjoyed a mother and daughter moment I will never forget. As we stretched across her queen-sized bed, neither of us knew this would be our last time together at home as a family. An unexpected visitor was in route to our doorsteps.

The ride to my grandmother’s home seem to take forever.  Nobody spoke; even my lil sister who we nicknamed “Radio” was quiet – there was nothing to say. When we finally arrived, there was a sea of cars and so many people.  I seemed to fade away into the crowd. Numb and in disbelief, I had no tears, no words…..nothing. Everything was a blur. I could hear Delise Catron mumbling, “Let it go. You can’t hold it inside; it’s not good for you.” But, I couldn’t feel anything; I was paralyzed.

Grief gripped the depths of my soul. Questions swirled: “Why MY Mom?” “How am I supposed to help my younger siblings, I’m only 14?” “This is so unfair; God how could you let this happen?” “I will never survive without my Mom.” I was tortured mostly at night, because I had to be strong for my siblings during the day. In bed with tears streaming, I felt the presence of an unexpected visitor creep into my room. Fear gripped me and I cried harder… “Noooo!!”

The visitor eased upon me and wrapped me in its arms.  As I purged every tormented feeling inside of me, feelings of comfort and fortitude enveloped me.  Interceding on my behalf, the visitor cradled me with peace, love and support. My fears were replaced with hope. I didn’t know how we would survive, but the three of us had a future to embrace. We aspired to make our Mom proud. God, in His infinite wisdom, equipped the three of us with everything good for His will and Glory. (Jer 29:11 & Heb 13:21) 

I share my experience because many have witnessed the death of close loved ones during this Covid-19 pandemic. Life will never be the same, but there is hope and a future. We can survive and not hate the experiences that shaped us. My siblings are both smart and successful. And I completed my mission! My love and pride for my siblings is boundless.  

As Mother’s Day and the 34th anniversary of Mom’s death approaches, I vow to accumulate the positive memories of our time together. We can make it during this time of uncertainty and grief; there is an unexpected visitor, The Comforter, to guide us through it all.