A common sound in my life: Angela’s obnoxious laugh. It roars from within her, always attracting too much attention. The comedy was momentarily paused with the ring of my phone. As I pulled my phone from my pocket the announcer started introducing the heavy draft pulling teams at the Draft Horse Show. When I pulled out my phone and read the word “Dad” in bright red, I had a gut feeling that something was up.

Before I had left for this weekend of fun, my mom had taken another turn for the worst. I didn’t want to leave for fear that the worst would happen, but the hospice nurses and my dad all told me that mom had at least another week and that she would want me to go have fun for the weekend. Before now, I had wanted to leave, get away from the chaos that was my everyday life. Since my mom had been re-diagnosed with stage four brain cancer, my life, and everyone else’s lives in our immediate family, had been thrown into complete disorder. People who had never cared before, were now a big part of my life. There were so many people in and out of our house that I met someone new just about every other day. But now, with my mom so sick she didn’t even recognizing her own daughter, I wanted to stay. I wanted to be there. Despite my fears, I went with Angela and her dad to the Draft horse show anyway because my mom wouldn’t have wanted me to miss out on something fun because of her.

When I answered the phone and said “Hello,” I was dreading what I knew I would hear. It was a little after nine in the evening and I knew my dad wouldn’t be calling me this late unless it was very important.

“Hey, are you having a good time?,” my dad replied.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with mom?,” I asked. I just wanted to get it over with. I knew what was coming.

After a pause that seemed like forever my dad said with a cracking voice, “She went peacefully.”

I wasn’t happy with that answer. I wanted him to tell me that mom was okay. That she had talked, or squeezed someones hand. I just wanted to hear anything other than what I was being told. I turned away from Angela slightly, so she wouldn’t know what was going on. “When did it happen?,” I asked, wanting to know more.
“Around three in the afternoon,” He said. I could tell that he was now crying. How could he not?

“Hunter didn’t see her like that, right?” I asked.

“No, the funeral home got here before he got home.” He replied.

“Thank god,” I said as I thought about how scared my little brother would be if he came home from school and saw his mom, dead, in her bed. He would most likely carry some sort of guilt with him for the rest of his life. My fun, crazy little brother would now be depressed and shallow. I was so glad that he would not have to go through that.

“Are you okay?” My dad asked after the thought- filled pause.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. How could anyone be okay after they just a phone call that their mom is dead. Dead. Not one person can just be okay after receiving that news. The tears streaming down my face confirmed this.

“Do you want to talk about anything?,” he asked, dragging this conversation on.

“No, its okay.” I replied. I just wanted to hang up. After another long pause, I broke the silence saying, “I love you Daddy.”

He could barely talk now, but squeezed out an “I love you too.”

As I hung up the phone I stared at the floor. Why did this have to happen now? Why did this have to happen to her? Why her? There were so many things racing through my mind. Memories of the sound of her voice, the feel of her wrinkled skin, the sight of her big white smile. Now the tears really started coming. Tears that knew I would never see any of that again.

I turned to Angela, who was totally oblivious of what had just happened. The first team of Belgian horses had broke a weight record and Angela was cheering for them. She was so happy. Did I really want to break that? I knew I had to, that no matter what was happening, she would want to know right away.

“Angela?,” I asked.
“What?,” She said while turning towards me. When she saw my tear filled eyes her expression immediately changed. She knew something was up.
“Mom is gone,” I cracked out.
“Oh my God,” Angela said in shock, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

I stood, without a reply and started to walk out of the stands. I did not hide my face and people kept looking at me. I just thought about how these strangers had no clue what had just happened. They probably thought I was some dramatic, heartbroken teenager that had just broken up with her boyfriend. But they had no idea, no clue, that my mom had just died. She had lost her four-year battle with cancer.

For the past four years I had watched my mom go from the outgoing, inspirational woman that I admired, to someone I didn’t know anymore. The problem that I had with this four year battle was that I couldn’t help her; I couldn’t do anything to make her suffer less. Everything was out of my hands.

When I walked out that auditorium door I did not look back. It was as if by walking through those doors, I was walking into a new part of my life. A part in which things could get better, not just worse.

Now I hear an uncommon sound in my life: Angela quietly crying.