The Worst Night of My Life
December 9th was the worst night of my life. I'd rushed out the door to work that afternoon without saying goodbye to either of my parents because I was running late. While I was waiting outside the school to pick up the girls I worked as a nanny for, their mom texted me asking if I could work late that night so she could go out with a friend. I really didn't want to, but I knew she was stressed out from work and could use some fun so I said yes. During work that night, my fiancé and I had our first argument ever - via text messages. When I left work, I made a stop at Subway and Whole Foods before heading home. I had no idea I was about to walk into a living nightmare.
When I got home, I found my dad's body laying on the family room floor. His body was already starting to get cold, his mouth was open, his eyes half closed. I screamed and my mom came running from the bedroom where she'd been sleeping. The next hours I remember only in flashes. Screaming to the 911 operator to send help as I did CPR - even though I knew it was futile. The EMTs saying he was already gone. Sobbing on the phone to my fiancé. The undertakers coming...like the grim reaper himself walking through the front door...all black clothes, black trench coats and wide brimmed hats.
The next week was pure hell, only the presence of my fiancé kept my mom and I sane. My dad's final wishes were to be cremated and no service, but his sister guilt tripped my mom into having a service. His sister ended up using the entire visitation time to flirt with an old childhood sweetheart while my mom, sister, and I walked around trying to not faint. She's still holding a grudge against me I hear, because I turned down her invitation to Christmas at her house two weeks after the funeral.
When someone dies, I have to say...you end up seeing family's true colors in the aftermath.
Image Credit » http://pixabay.com/en/cemetery-jewish-grave-stone-forest-380839/ by spustlik