Chapter 3: The Business of Death

Today began with an 8 a.m. appointment at the funeral home. It was the first moment my sister and I cried simultaneously since we've been together. We have a strange relationship. There are ways we close and ways that we are very far away. It's not by my choice. I just don't know how to bridge the distance that has grown over the years for reasons I don't even fully understand. Maybe it's the physical distance, being on opposite coasts, and having lives that are so incredibly different. Maybe it's the different ways we've adjusted to life in our family. I just know that even though we are going through this together, I still feel very much alone. Even as I write this, she is crying in the shower. Funny that even though we're so different, we're also so much the same. The shower is my sanctuary, too,  for emotion when there are people around I don't want to share it with. And there's something comforting about the water.

The funeral director was very kind, exactly as someone in her position should be I suppose. The limbo we're experiencing is extending to mom's remains because we cannot afford the cremation. We are asking social services to pay for it, which will take several weeks. Her body should arrive at one of our homes shortly before we learn the toxicology results.

There are so many questions in my mind about whether it was really a suicide or whether she had something going on physically that the doctors didn't find because they blew her off.  When going through her papers we learned she went to the emergency room on Friday night due to fainting spells. They sent her home with some information about fainting spells and remarks about her substance abuse (her latest addiction was narcotic pain medications). In her personal belongings we found a money order for the rent, purchased on Thursday. Why would she prepare to pay her rent if she planned to die?
And I think she was the kind of person who would write a letter, at least to us. But we haven't found anything. It sucks to have this huge question looming and know that I won't have any answers for at least 6 weeks, probabably 8 or more.

We believe it was suicide for many reasons, the cause of death being undeterminable by autopsy only being one. She has always been unstable and was suicidal many times in the past.  We learned from our step-aunt that our mother called her periodically with unstoppable tears. She was seen Friday or Saturday night by a maintenance person crying. The new physical condition she had was causing her tremendous stress, physically and emotionally. She had a strange skin condition that manifested in big sores all over her body, including her scalp which prompted her to shave her head and wear wigs. We learned the week before her death, in an email from her, that a psychiatrist had told her it was caused by stress and prescribed her an anti-psychotic (he told her it was anti-anxiety, but my sister the art therapist knew better as soon as she saw the name) because she believed she had worms coming out of all parts of her body, both the sores and other places like her mouth, fingers and toes. The medication was supposed to lessen the anxiety that caused her to pick at the sores and imagine the worms. The sores on her face were so bad that she said she could no longer completely cover them with bandages. Finances were forcing her to work, teaching first graders. She felt like a monster and didn't know how she could deal with her kids' reactions.  We also learned today that her principal had told her last week that she could be fired due to her absences and less-than-optimal performance that were caused by her health issues (I bet that woman feels like a real creep now).

After the funeral home we went to the County Administrator's office to pick up her personal items so we could get into the apartment. The drive from that office to my mother's apartment were the hardest moments I've experienced since originally hearing the news of her death. It's so bizarre walking into my mother's life when I knew so little about it. I had never visited her here.  It was very sad how the place didn't really look lived in. She never unpacked most of her things, even though she lived there for one or two years. All the walls were bare except for a couple sentimental items in her bedroom associated with my sister and I.

My sister brought one of my mother's journals back to the hotel with us and serendipitously it had the closest thing to a will we've found so far. We think she wrote it before she had gastric bypass surgery a couple of years ago. It specifies what sentimental items she wanted each of us to have, which we're very glad to know.

There is still much to be done. While we made progress on the apartment, it will take at least another full day to sort everything and try to get a charity to come pick it up. We're hoping a pastor we found in her phone will come to get all the books and tapes on Christianity. It seems like it'd be a waste for them not to go somewhere they will be appreciated. We also need to go to her school to pick up personal items, get the car looked at to be sure it's safe to drive back to Eureka, go to the post office to have her mail forwarded, and who knows what  elseI've forgotten in my exhaustion. I feels overwhelming.

I hope I sleep better tonight. I haven't had a full night's sleep since Sunday.

Thank you for listening/witnessing.