2018.JUL.24 - Flashback

2018.JUL.24.

Fourteen years ago today, I got the phone call that would land me where I am now. I was on a photo shoot with a team of photographers at a high school in Dallas, Texas, when my employer called me away from my station and handed me his cell phone. On the other end was my Aunt Reetha, who stated, "Your ... your mother has gone to be with Jesus." I couldn't process that idea. "You mean Grandma ... ?"

"No." she said. "Your MOTHER has gone to be with Jesus." She went on to convey the little bit of information she had, explaining that Mom had been receiving chemo-therapy in Salt Lake City. She had slipped into a coma and died three days later. It was the first I had heard of the hospital stay. That wasn't unusual. Mom had been undergoing treatments for CLL leukemia for a while. I was far away, and not getting news from home very regularly. The Jesus reference was throwing me off. Unlike my grandmother, my mother was not a practicing Christian by then. I don't remember her even talking about that religion for many years. I had this weird vision of her being embraced by a stranger in a white robe. Then, I saw her in the arms of her much beloved stepfather. That's where she would rather have been received. My boss told me that he would drive me back to the office in Sulphur Springs, since it was obvious that I would need to be getting home immediately. The ride back was long and quiet as I tried to wrap my head around the idea that my mother was dead. It wasn't supposed to happen yet. And not like that.